


Fall Flings (Kinktober Edition)

by PyrophobicDragon



Series: Kinktober [1]
Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-11-09 04:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: As it says in the title. Kinktober entries! Short, smutty fics, most with porn, some without.





	1. Body Worship

**Author's Note:**

> AKA the reason why I looked at my phone background and thought to myself, "Oh Hein, sweetie, I'm so sorry."
> 
> I'll try to get one out every day, but...if not, my goal is to finish this by the end of fall!

“Ah, fuck…”

Heinwald frowned at Curran, unsympathetic. “I told you to lift with your legs.”

“Easy for you to say,” Curran griped. “I didn’t see you doing any of the lifting.”

“I had more important duties. And besides, you are the one who constantly label us as the ‘brains’ and the ‘brawn.”

Curran simply grumbled wordlessly at him and continued his quest to remove his shirt while reclining on the small mountain of pillows that were usually hugging Heinwald.

A landslide in a town they were riding through sent them into a flurry of assisting with recovery efforts. In his single-minded determination to dig up rubble and move aside rocks while Heinwald treated injuries, Curran hadn’t realized how badly he had strained his back...until he woke up the next morning. Heinwald, as his loving partner, had offered a massage to reduce the recovery time. And whatever Curran may imply, he had absolutely no ulterior motives in mind. 

After finally working his shirt off his arm, Curran threw it at the corner. It didn’t quite make it to its destination, instead landing halfheartedly in the center of the room. Curran scowled at it, but transferred his gaze to Heinwald, where his annoyance with his injury quickly faded. 

“Hey, can you at least get naked for this massage?”

And Curran accused him of having ulterior motives. He rolled his eyes.

“Aw, come on, it’ll be healing for both body and spirit,” Curran whined at his voiceless refusal. “I’ll settle for some sexy underwear.”

“Since when did you name your penis ‘spirit’?” asked Heinwald mildly. 

“Ha-ah!” Curran’s laugh quickly transformed into a wince of pain. “Oof, ouch, don’t make me laugh when my back hurts this much, babe.”

“My apologies,” Heinwald murmured. He was a little miffed that he wouldn’t be hearing Curran’s loud, brash laughter for the next day or longer.

“You can apologize by taking off your clothes.” Curran raised an expectant brow at him.

He sighed.

But he reached for the top button on his shirt.

He was dressed casually for a planned day of rest, so he had none of his layers on. His white shirt hit the ground first, followed by his pants, and then he was in his underwear next to the bed. He spread his arms and asked, “Would you like to reconsider your nude request?”

Curran watched him with unabashed glee as he stripped. But his grin faded slightly at Heinwald’s question. “Well, that’s a hard question.”

“Well, if it’s going to take you time to decide, you should work on rolling over.” 

Curran frowned. “Go put on some nice panties and a corset.”

Heinwald headed for their closet. He closed the door on Curran’s groan as he started the painful task of maneuvering himself.

He made sure to take his time choosing a pair of white panties and a white corset with small blue bows decorating the front. Perhaps it was risky, wearing white in the presence of oil, but he had faith in his magical servants’ ability to get stains out of the underwear. They’ve gotten semen and lubricant out of nearly every material imaginable at this point.

When he exited the closet, Curran had thrown all of the pillows and kicked the blankets off the bed and onto the floor. He was lying facedown on the bed, head pillowed on his arms, wearing nothing. And he was watching Heinwald emerge, his blue eyes tracking his every move across the bedroom.

“Does this meet your exacting specifications?” asked Heinwald. “Honestly, from the amount of requests you have, one would think you were paying me.”

Curran’s lips quivered as he tried to suppress his laughter. “Sounds kinky. Hey, if you want to do that too--”

Heinwald rolled his eyes again. “No.” At Curran’s pout, he amended, “...Maybe later.”

As Heinwald struggled to open the bottle of oil that he had taken from the kitchen, Curran murmured, “You look really nice, honey.” Then he let out a sigh. “Too bad my back hurts too much to do anything about it.”

“If you don’t complain during the massage, I’ll give you a handjob afterwards,” Heinwald said.

“Really?” He didn’t have to look at him to know that he visibly brightened up. But he deflated a little, as evidenced by the little grumble in his voice. “But your massages hurt like fuck.”

“If you don’t complain about the massage at all, I’ll upgrade it to a blowjob.” Heinwald turned around, rubbing oil in between his palms, and Curran mimed locking his mouth shut.

“Deal. No complaints, I get a blowjob afterwards.” He then paused. “I can still react to the pain, right?”

“Those are involuntary reactions, and therefore an acceptable byproduct of the massage.” Heinwald climbed onto the bed and swung a leg over Curran’s, settling himself so he was sitting on top of his thighs. He surveyed the landscape of sculpted muscle and skin in front of him, then leaned forward and set his hands on Curran’s scapulae.

Curran groaned as he dug his thumbs into the muscle. It was a pained noise, bordering on a cry, but Heinwald squashed the soft part of his heart that worried about causing Curran pain and moved his hands down the latissimus dorsi, positioning the heels of his palms equidistant from the spine and pressing with as much of his body weight as he could muster, dragging his palms downwards, drawing another, much more sound from Curran.

Curran was right when he teased Heinwald for being physically weak. He didn’t have much arm or grip strength, especially not when compared to his much stronger lover, but he had given Curran several massages in the past and he knew how to use his slight body weight to help him get the pressure needed to work the muscles. And with his previous experience and muscle memory taking over, his mind was free to wander.

There was a series of thin red lines criss-crossing Curran’s back that had luckily already healed up to lines of tiny, dark red scabs. There was a spark of smugness and pleasure as he ran his oiled palms over the all-too-familiar scabbed wounds. They were marks of his own making: he had sharp nails and a tendency to start raking his hands down Curran’s back while in the grip of passion. Looking at them, he felt a phantom twinge from his own shoulder, where he still bore matching marks left by Curran’s teeth from the lovemaking session where he inflicted those scratches on Curran. He could easily heal away both of their superficial wounds with magic or a potion, but he liked marking up Curran, and being marked in return. The sparks of pain accompanying the pleasure, and the bloodied brands left behind.

But the marks he himself had caused were not the only ones Curran bore. The man had quite a few good-sized scars. Ones that Heinwald were present for were pale and barely visible, characteristic of wounds that were healed through magical means. When he pulled his closed fists down on either side of Curran’s spine, the knuckle of his ring finger ran right over a two-inch long scar, situated parallel to the spine, where a man had run Curran through with a sword. Most of the scars that he had obtained after meeting Heinwald were of that nature-- life-threatening or physically large injuries, where his magic was unable to disappear the scar completely. In that way, Curran’s body was like a mosaic of the times where Heinwald nearly lost him. Or, as Heinwald liked to think of it, of the times when he nearly gave his own life for Heinwald and Heinwald successfully saved him.

Older scars were dull and long faded from lifetime of renewing skin, and those ones made Heinwald unhappy. He had many more of those; before meeting Heinwald, he was a self-professed lone wolf, one who would only seek out healing magic after missions or after particularly nasty wounds. Instead of signs of his devotion, they were places where Heinwald could have lost Curran before he ever knew him, and he frowned as he ran his fingers over the most prominent scar. It shaped like a lightning bolt, that began at some point on his lower right side and radiated out onto his back, from eating a lightning spell from a defensive heretic. It was an old scar, and he had taken good care of it, so it was barely visible unless one knew what to look for. But Heinwald had studied it during so many sleepless nights, thinking of leaf veins, coastlines, pine trees, that he could do it with his eyes closed.

“Rethinking your stance on ulterior motives, huh?”

Heinwald scowled at Curran. He leaned forward, onto his elbows, and pressed down.

“Ow! Fuck fuck fuck, that fucking hurt, you crazy bitch!”

Curran was a very lucky man that Heinwald liked it when he called him names. He ignored his violent swearing and went back to the massage, focusing his next efforts on the meat of his shoulders.

He was not a particularly broad man, not like Ranzal, who sometimes got stuck in narrow doorways. But his shoulders and his back was corded with well-defined muscle. Heinwald squeezed it in his hands, working his fingers into the tensed trapezius, recalling the times that Curran had busted down barred doors simply by throwing his shoulder against it, or the times where he picked Heinwald up and removed him from his current obsession as easily as picking up a small animal.

When he finished poking a prodding his shoulders, he was finished with the massage. He reluctantly crawled off of Curran’s legs, who slowly rolled over onto his back, wincing. “Starting to feel better already,” he said, despite the pained look still on his face.

Heinwald absently reached out and patted his pectoral. “I told you it would help.”

“The promise of a reward at the end and your sexy outfit certainly helped,” Curran leered at him. “So...was I good enough for a blowjob?”

“Hmmph. I suppose you fulfilled the parameters of the deal.”

And Heinwald shuffled down the bed and took his cock into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon: Curran's favorite protein is chicken.


	2. Petplay

Curran did not have any idea what to expect when Heinwald made his proposal. But he can certainly say that he didn’t expect to enjoy it so much.

Heinwald was standing in front of him, wearing a short grey nightie that barely reached his thighs. He had two grey ears sitting neatly on his head, occasionally twitching. Around his neck was his leather collar, which wasn’t new, but the long leash attached to it that he was holding in one hand definitely was. And emerging from underneath the hem of his nightie was a long, soft tail.

Heinwald would normally be teasing him by now, maybe fishing for compliments, or impatiently crawling into his lap and pushing him back onto the bed. But he stood there quietly, letting Curran inspect him. 

Curran stuck out his hand.

Heinwald walked over and placed the end of the leash in it. And when he moved to kneel on the floor, Curran gave it an experimental tug. He noted, with some amusement, that Heinwald’s pupils blew wide open, before he swallowed a few times, trying to get some moisture back into his throat. “I’m not going to make my precious lap kitty sit on the floor,” he finally said, voice unintentionally low and husky. He patted his lap, and gave another tug on the leash.

Heinwald purred happily, then immediately clambered onto Curran’s lap. As soon as he was within reach, Curran stuck a hand up his skirt, wrapping it around the tail, and followed the tail up to--

To where it was attached to a toy already inside Heinwald’s hole.

Heinwald, in the process of nuzzling his face into the crook of Curran’s neck, went abruptly still.

Curran could only chuckle. “You should’ve told me about this, kitten. I would’ve liked to watch.” Even now, with Heinwald present and sitting in his lap, his mind was wandering to what must have happened not five minutes prior. He imagined Heinwald, in their walk-in closet, fingering himself open so he could put the butt plug into his own hole. He wondered... “Did you fuck yourself with your own tail?”

Heinwald shook his head. Curran could feel it more than see it, as tightly pressed as he was against his body. 

“Not even a little?” Curran asked. Another head shake, and he laughed and pet the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “There’s a good kitty. I would have been pretty pissed if you left me waiting to have your own fun. But were you tempted to?”

A long pause. Then a tiny little nod.

Curran thought for a moment. Then he slowly began to wind the leash, around and around his hand. Once it was short enough, he gave it a yank. 

Heinwald choked, forcibly pulled away from his place, until Curran could see his flushed face and wide eyes. He let a little bit of slack back into the leash, but he still held it out and away, preventing Heinwald from diving back into the comfort of his embrace. He grinned at him. “You’re already so subservient, babydoll. You’re usually much brattier--and mouthier--than this.” Heinwald flushed a brighter red, but he didn’t reply. Curran continued, “I think you like being my sweet little kitten. Something about this outfit, about having a toy up your ass while you sit in my lap, makes you want to be good for me. It’s good to know for the future.” Then he loosened his grip on the leash. Heinwald took the invitation for what it was and eagerly dove back in, this time pressing his lips against his jaw, kissing him several times in rapid succession, downright purring.

His hand was still at the base of his tail. He gave a gentle tug, and the plug slid out easily, accompanied by a low moan. When he had pulled it about halfway out--it wasn't a particularly large toy, just large enough to tease Heinwald's prostate whenever he shifted, and oh boy the short distance between the closet and the bed must have been fun, maybe he should make him do some laps around the room?--he pushed it back in, slowly.

Heinwald shuddered in his arms. His ears went stiff as his eyes rolled back in his head, and isn’t it such a delight that after all they’ve done with and to each other he can still make him react like that? 

Curran kissed the tip of his nose and murmured, “Good kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon: the reason why Cassandra's ears twitched in her trailer is because they're magic fake ears, and Heinwald is using the same magic for his cat ears here.


	3. Bondage

“How’re you doing?” Curran asked. 

He wasn’t really expecting an answer. But he got one anyway, in the form of a searing hot glare. When his face split into a wide grin, he got a truly incredible eye-roll as well. 

Of course Heinwald couldn’t answer. He had a handkerchief stuffed into his mouth and a belt holding it in place, after all. Curran had also spent the better part of the last ten minutes tying Heinwald’s wrists behind his back and his arms to his side. But the cherry on top was definitely the bar cuffed to his ankles, keeping his legs spread and open.

Tying up Heinwald was so much fun. He was such a brat in bed: rudely demanding one second, pushing him away the next, going from angrily threatening him to in pathetic, begging tears, all while being unwilling to lift a  _ finger _ to contribute. (He was maybe being a bit critical with the last point, but hey, yesterday Heinwald had fallen asleep while he was inside of him, he was entitled to some offense. He had kept going, of course, but it was still pretty insulting.) It was good to have him tied up and helpless, unable to do anything but take whatever Curran did or didn't give him. 

Curran watched Heinwald strain against the bonds, thighs flexing as he attempted to close his legs. The only thing that resulted from his struggles was a wrinkled bedsheet. He had a more-than-sneaking suspicion that Heinwald’s feeble atempt to escape his bonds was less a desire to be removed from the situation and more of a desire for Curran to hurry up and start fucking him already. He hadn’t even  _ touched _ him yet, poor thing, and his cock was already hard and leaking precome onto the ropes criss-crossing his belly.

Heinwald was no longer glaring daggers at him. Instead, he was batting his eyelashes at him, having decided that he would try the honey method.

"You have no eyelashes to speak of," Curran admonished him. "And you were literally just threatening to kill me before I gagged you."

Heinwald developed such an innocent  _ who, me? _ look on his face. Curran didn’t buy it for a second.

Instead, he ignored him for the time being in favor of getting the fingers of his hand lubed up. When he turned back, he grabbed the spreader bar with his free hand and lifted it up, pushing Heinwald’s legs up in the air so he could access his cute little hole more easily. He caught a glimpse of Heinwald’s eyes, spotting that little lift that they did when he was happy with the way things were going, before they closed when he pushed a finger in.

His body was tight around his finger. Curran took his time, pushing and pulling it in and out, until Heinwald was a little bit looser and had gone back to wiggling about with impatience. 

Before he added another finger, he just pressed it against Heinwald’s hole and held it there. He was glaring at him again, and Curran laughed and said, “You are way too impatient for a man who’s been tied up, baby.”

His reply was muffled by the gag, but Curran could guess that it was probably something insulting. He pushed in the second finger anyways, watching Heinwald jerk. His moan, at least, was audible, originating low in his throat. He spread his fingers, opening up his hole a little bit more, and, feeling a little impatient himself, added in a third finger. Heinwald's muffled moans became louder the more Curran fingered him open, even without touching his prostate, which just showed how much he liked getting fucked with anything.

Which is why he was no doubt going to be really fucking pissed about what Curran was planning to do next.

He pulled his fingers out of Heinwald and sat back, admiring the sight of him all loose and ready. He carefully lowered Heinwald’s legs back onto the bed and leaned in to kiss him again, letting it linger on his cheek.

Then he got out of the bed and headed for the door.

“Mmmph!” Even gagged as tightly as he was, that sound was filled with shock and outrage. Curran stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

Heinwald glared at him, still bound and gagged and  _ hard _ on the bed, and he laughed. “Sorry, honey, but you were being such a brat. I think I’m gonna let you stew a little bit before I give you anything more.”

And he walked out of the room, accompanied by Heinwald’s muffled protests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curran's cat's name is The Cat. He kept meaning to name it something cool and interesting, but after three years of calling it nothing but the cat, they gave up and had a nametag made for it.


	4. Long-Distance

Dear Heinwald,

It feels weird to be writing a letter to you. It feels weird to know exactly where you are, but be unable to go and see you. But until you recover from your stupid illness, I guess I’ll have to settle for this. I miss you already. I always hated it when you disappeared for a day or two on one of your harebrained ideas, but now I hate it even more when you’re gone involuntarily. 

If you die without giving me a chance to sit by your side and say “I told you so,” I’m gonna be really fucking pissed. So you better not die.

Love,

Curran.

***

Dear Curran,

Don’t be so frustrated. Be glad that dragons are neither susceptible to nor carriers of the disease, so we can communicate via these letters. I will be gone from your side for no more than a couple of weeks. And I assure you, I have no intention of dying so soon, let alone without you.

Yours,

Heinwald.

***

Dear Heinwald,

Fucking weeks! Damnit!

C

***

Curran,

“Dammit” would be the more generally-accepted spelling.

Heinwald

***

Hein,

How’s this for a spelling lesson: fuck off.

C

***

Dear Curran,

If you would like. I suppose you’ll enjoy a very long, lonely couple of weeks without a peep from me.

Yours,

Heinwald.

***

Dear Heinwald,

Ugh. Fuck you.

C

P.S: What are you wearing?

***

Curran,

Really?

Heinwald

P.S: I am wearing my dressing-gown and pajamas. Though I could claim to be wearing something more appealing, if you would like.

***

Let’s just dispense with the formalities.

Nah, your robe and pjs are good. What would you do, if I were there with you?

***

I would probably scold you for breaking into my sickroom, then call for a nurse to remove you, as I do not want you getting ill. 

But, behaving in a manner more conducive to your desires, I would immediately undress. You are not the only one missing their partner, in more ways than one.

***

Aw, you really do care.

It’s good to know that I’m not the only one struggling with the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that, huh? 

I’ll enjoy watching you trying to jump my bones. You get so desperate for my cock after a few days of denial, and I can imagine it’ll be even worse after a few weeks.

***

Hmph.

Well, in this scenario, I am naked and on the bed. And, as this is fantasy, let us skip the foreplay--as pleasurable as you make it--and say that I am prepared for anything you wish to do to me. So? What is your next move?

***

I don't know, honey, I know how impatient you can be. I’m not sure I trust you to do a good job of making sure you’re ready to take my cock. I think I’ll tease you with my fingers a little first, toy with your pretty hole a little bit, and make sure that you’re nice and loose. I wouldn’t even take my dick out of my pants until I’m sure that you’re ready for it.

***

Even in fantasy you insist on trying my patience. Very well, let me tell you what I would like in this scenario.

In this scenario, I would have spent the last week separated from you masturbating every night, thinking of you. As I bring you over to the bed, I would tell you about how I touched myself each night, about how I made myself orgasm with my fingers or with toys, and how I came every night with your name on my lips, begging you to come and end my misery. I would tell you about how, despite my best efforts, my fingers could never reach as deep as your cock, about how I could never fuck myself fast enough with the toys, and about how I want you to come into my bed and take me hard and fast and rough, just the way I always ask you to. You would listen to my vivid descriptions of my solo activities, waiting until I was all done, and then you’d reward me for my patience over the last week and my accurate recital, first with a kiss, and then by pinning me down onto this bed and fucking me from behind. You’d take me like an animal, on my hands and knees, thrusting into me with such force that the bedframe hits the wall with each stroke. The sound of it would echo through the room, nearly drowning out my cries of pleasure, as I finally get exactly what I had been longing for.

Here is where I am unable to complete the fantasy. Would you come first, or would I? If I come first, you would pull out of me (that is not to say that I enjoy don’t it when you fuck me past the point of orgasm, so don’t fear; you haven’t been doing anything that I don’t want you to, so stop worrying and keep reading) and touch your wonderful cock, slick with the oil I had prepared myself with, until you cover me with your seed. If you come first, you would fill me up to the brim, until it was dripping down my thigh, and you would pull out and take one of my toys from the bedside table and use it to fuck me to completion, showing me that the poor toy wasn’t to blame for its unsatisfactory performance, and that with a proper partner, the depth and speed that it was lacking could be easily achieved. I would come, split open on the toy, while you watch with voyeuristic glee, with more of your seed leaking out with every push of the toy into my body.

Please write back and inform me which scenario is more appealing to you. Perhaps you could also contribute an idea or two of your own.

***

Dear Hein,

I came while reading your last letter. That was so hot. I’m utterly speechless.

I ended up having to take a shower, and even though I spent the whole time wondering what I should write back, I’m still at a loss.

I’m keeping that letter forever, I hope you know that.

Love,

C

***

My dear Curran,

I hope it’ll be good company for current and future lonely nights.

Love,

Heinwald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon: Curran's mother insists that Heinwald call her "Mom." Heinwald makes an extra effort to be polite to Curran's parents so he compromises and calls her "mother," but secretly he's mildly uncomfortable with how affectionate of a person she is towards him.


	5. Sensory deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: references to past character deaths and major injuries. 
> 
> Set in the bad future from Fractured Futures.

Making love was much, much different now.

Well, obviously it had to be, after five-odd years and a bevy of changes. In the world. In themselves.

It was much quieter, now. It was partially a learned behavior, because carting around five kids in a land crawling with soldiers looking for them was by no means conducive to loud, bed-shaking sex. But the main reason for why their room was only filled by small gasps and low groans was because of the Empire.

They had  _ stolen _ Heinwald’s voice.

Specifically, his tongue. 

He could still make noise. He could groan, grumble, scream. He could approximate some words, words made of sounds that didn’t require the tongue. He practiced every day, some sort of self-directed speech therapy, where he mumbled slurred words to himself like _three,_ _chair _and _typological. _But they _talked_ so much during sex, before. They teased each other, they begged and they praised, they asked _how is it_ and _is this okay_ and discussed cases even when Curran was balls-deep in Heinwald’s ass. Talking was so much effort for Heinwald now, and so their sex life went quiet.

Not only that, it was much more...surprising? Not for Curran, but for Heinwald, who lost not only his tongue but his eyes. He reacted every time Curran kissed his neck, or touched his cock. Even now, when they were both naked, Heinwald was still wearing the strip of cloth he wore wrapped over his empty eye sockets. He told Curran once, clumsily writing on the chalkboard that Maribelle gave to Heinwald out of her school bag after he was blinded and muted, that he didn’t want Curran to have to look at his empty eyes. Ever, really.

The kids had gone out, scouting or searching or killing soldiers. He and Heinwald had the house--a burnt-out shell of a two-room stone-and-peat house; (they had found bodies and buried them in the backyard)--to themselves, which meant a night of slow, languid, loving sex. They learned very quickly to take complete advantage of the rare times when they didn’t have to share a room with the kids. 

It was rough at first, trying to take care of Maribelle, Pia, Lowen, Elias, and Lily, when neither of them really qualified as fathers and Cleo’s only reasoning why she showed up on their doorstep with the crying and/or near-catatonic kids was  _ You two took care of Lathna, we have no one else _ before she disappeared to head back to Mistholt, never to be seen again. It was difficult, having to make a plan, trying to decide if they should go or should they stay, if they should split up or stay together (the kids had put a stop to the former real quick, begging them not to separate), trying to comfort the children over the loss of their friends and families (poor Lowen, poor, poor Lowen; Heinwald had hugged him for a very long time) all while trying to deal with their own grief and come to terms with the fact that the apocalypse had come wearing the face of the prince they had trusted.

But they survived and they did their best, tempering the five children’s desire for revenge and freedom with practicality. They had planned to flee the country, but as they were waiting for the boat to Hinomoto they had been found and Heinwald had gone to the soldiers to distract them so Curran and the kids could escape. That was when he lost his eyes and his tongue, and Curran had nearly died of despair, and the kids had grown into their own and decided  _ we aren’t going to stand around and lose more of our family _ and mounted a daring rescue mission that, with the grace of the goddess, succeeded.

And now, thanks to them, Heinwald was alive, and underneath him, letting gasping moans falling out of his mouth as Curran dragged his tongue up his side, following the hills and valleys of his too-exposed ribcage.

He was more sensitive, now, he said, to noise, but also to touch. Just the barest brush of his fingertips across his belly was enough to elicit a full-body spasm. Curran pressed the head of his cock against his hole, not quite pushing in just yet, just a little press, just enough to let him know it was there and it was coming eventually. He could almost hear Heinwald threatening him the way he used to, telling him  _ do it what are you waiting for give me your cock you monster,  _ except these days he was starting to hear it in Heinwald’s loose voice, the one that practiced words like  _ apple, book,  _ and  _ loquaciousness  _ over and over again.

They used to blindfold each other to induce that sensitivity and sense of anticipation. He cried over it once, wondering how he could have covered up Heinwald's beautiful red eyes without even knowing that there would be a time when he would have them no longer. He didn't cry over it anymore. He couldn't mourn over what was gone forever, especially not when Heinwald was here when he nearly wasn't.

When he leaned up to kiss Heinwald's cheekbone, just underneath the blindfold, Heinwald smiled. And he gave a little jerk of his head, like a whinnying pony, and even without words Curran could read  _ get on with it then. _

Many things were different. Some things weren't.

Curran kissed him again, this time on the lips. Heinwald reached up and pressed a hand to the back of his head, gripping the short cropped hair back there, and held him close as their lips moved against each other's. He slowly pressed in, both his tongue and his cock, and Heinwald made a pleased noise low in his throat. He used to not kiss Heinwald like this, unable to get past the lack of another tongue greeting his. But he got over it, and now he licked his way around Heinwald’s mouth with glee as his pushed his cock slowly inside of him.

They made love slowly, not really chasing the high of orgasm. More enjoying the sensations, the brush of skin on skin, the smell of each other on the sheets, the tangible closeness. They've lost so many friends over the years. It was truly a miracle that they at least still had each other, and this was a moment to appreciate what they still had.

***

Heinwald woke up the next morning, still sore and satisfied. His back ached, comfortably, not like the pain that came after sleeping on rocks in a ravine, as he reached over to his left. Curran always put his things--his walking stick, clothes, and his slate and pencil--within arm's reach on that side.

He dressed slowly. He could hear low voices in the other room, and he quickly identified it as the five children and Curran. He was in no rush to join them, as he had other projects to think about.

(Nyarlathotep had no eyes. How did they see? If he could activate his abyssal heritage, what senses would he gain? He was eager to find out.)

Eventually, using his stick to guide him, he made his way out of the side room into the main room.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Curran whispered, and Heinwald made his way over in the direction of his voice.

He felt warm arms wrap around his waist. He leaned down and kissed him, hitting mostly hair but a bit of skin.

Then he pulled out his slate. 

_ Why is everyone being so quiet? _

He waited a moment for the others to read.

Elias chuckled. No longer a child teetering on the cusp of adulthood, he whispered in his low voice, "Sometimes, we forget that you and Curran aren't actually telepathically connected, so we forget to tell you stuff."

The others laughed too, a delightful chorus of rare joy, even as quiet as it was. "Me too," Curran whispered. 

When the laughter died down, Lily replied. "Notte's here,” she said. She still had her distinct high-pitched voice, and she was the only child who never grew--wait, what?

_ Notte? The fairy? _ He thought she had died.

"Yeah, she's asleep on the fireplace right now," said Pia. "Well, what's left of it."

Maribelle added, "She said she escaped from a dragon with the help of a blond man...and Euden."

_ What _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon: Louise died in front of Lowen trying to save him; Elias was the one who dragged him away from her body and saved his life.


	6. A/B/O

People always found it strange when they discovered that he and Heinwald were living together.

It was, maybe, a little unusual, for an unbonded alpha and omega to be living under the same roof. But Heinwald’s house was so fucking massive that they could go weeks without stumbling across each other if they really wanted, and besides they were friends and partners and the bed Curran had in Heinwald’s mansion was much more comfortable than the cots in the inquisitor barracks. 

Only recently did Curran look at Heinwald and think,  _ hey maybe I like you more than as a friend. _

It possibility only started floating up after they joined the castle. And suddenly, where before it was just the two of them, them versus the world, they were surrounded by more people, more allies, more  _ friends, _ more than one of whom were unbonded alphas.

And after he first started feeling the stinging lash of jealousy, Curran figured, hey, maybe he should get a head start on the courting-Heinwald thing before someone beat him to it.

It was easy. All he had to do was get out the words,  _ hey can I formally court you? _ to his best friend. Easy.

But for some reason, he  _ just could not do it. _

He would look up from his book across the table, to see Henwald leaning over, ponytail falling over his shoulder, the light of the candles casting shadows over his angular face, and the words would get stuck in his throat. And when Heinwald looked up at him, alerted by his staring, what came out of his mouth was, "You're a freaking nutjob," or something similarly insulting but familiar.

Heinwald would raised a brow, but in a way that indicated he was amused rather than insulted, and say something alone the lines of, "I'm only sitting here."

Yeah. So his decision to if he could court Heinwald was being...unfruitful, to say the least.

Right about the time when he was starting to despair of ever getting off his ass and doing something about how damn pretty Heinwald was, Heinwald lowered his book and looked at him. Curran braced himself for whatever was coming next; that expression never quite boded well for him.

“Curran, question,” Heinwald began innocuously, but Curran narrowed his eyes, still suspicious.

“Better not be one of your wacky questions.”

“I’ve told you, it depends on your definition of ‘wacky.’” He hated it when Heinwald did that. When he spoke in a way so Curran could  _ hear _ the air quotes.

“Well, I guess I won’t know until you ask it.” Curran heaved a grand sigh. “Shoot.”

Heinwald expression remained perfectly neutral. “Would you like to sleep with me during my next heat?”

“What!” Curran’s face went scarlet in an  _ instant. _

Heinwald said nothing. His face betrayed nothing. He just sat across from him, as casually as you please, waiting for an answer.

“Wait, wait, wait, fold your horses.” Curran took a very deep breath, held it in a couple of seconds, and then breathed out. If now wasn't the right time, then he'd never get it out there. “I actually, uh, wanted to ask if you’d be willing to let me count you.”

Heinwald’s eyebrow rose as Curran’s heart sank. 

But then he said, “‘Count’ me?”

“Fuck." He had to go fuck it up already. "Court. Court you. Properly.”

“‘Court’ me?" Heinwald echoed. Was it just Curran's imagination, or did he sound distinctly unimpressed? "As in, formerly declare your interest in testing our romantic compatibility with the intention of being bonded one day?”

“Yeah?” He said it like it was a bad thing.

“Hm.” Heinwald leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If I agree to your proposal, will that impact your decision whether to accompany me during my heat?”

He almost forgot about that question. “No. Either way, my answer will be ‘if you want me to.’ After...you know. You now know that I’m interested in you. Romantically.”

“You say that as if I was unaware of that fact.”

Wait, what. “You...you knew?” Of course he knew, but why didn’t he say anything, he wasn’t the sort of person who shied away from honest conversations, maybe he knew but he didn’t--

“No. I did not,” said Heinwald coolly, quickly dousing Curran’s panic. “Though I must say, I find myself unsurprised.”

They’ve gotten really off-track with this conversation. He buried his hands in his hair and sighed heavily. “Let’s start beating about the butt. Do you or do you not want me to court you? And...uh, go to bed with you?”

Heinwald no doubt had a lot to say about Curran’s choice of euphemism, but in a rare moment of mercy, held back his teasing. “Yes, to both of those things.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” said Heinwald, picking up his book again and signalling the end of the conversation. Which wasn’t a bad thing. Curran had a lot to think about.

But first he should probably go...take a cold shower.

To get rid of the embarrassment! Not for...any other reason.

***

Two weeks later, after an awkward date that turned into a much less awkward case, which led to a kiss (!!!), Heinwald approached him again in the middle of the hallway and informed him cheerfully, "I believe I would need you to fulfill the agreement we came to soon. At your convenience, please come find me so we can return to the mansion.” Then he walked away.

Curran stared at his back. It took him a moment to remember what he was talking about. But as soon as he realized what he was referring to, heat started rising to his cheeks.

"Is...was that…?

He turned to look at Botan, who was also staring at Heinwald, and cringed. She was also an alpha; no doubt she could also smell the faint scent of impending heat on Heinwald. She looked...gobsmacked. 

"No. Yes." He really didn't need or want her to finish her question. "Um, sorry, I don't think I can help you train for the next...few days."

"Right." The corner of her mouth twitched. "Well...have fun?"

He walked away from her as fast as possible.

***

A lot of inquisitors were alphas with something to prove and morals only loosely contained by the Book of Ilia. So, even though Curran's never--been with anyone before, he's heard quite a few stories, some based on truth, most false, about what it's like to bed an omega in heat. He's heard a lot about how great it is, about the wet, tight heat begging for a knot, about the mindlessness, about the heady blend of scent better than any liquor. 

He didn't hear much about how  _ exhausting _ it was. 

His back hurt. His arms hurt. His thighs hurt. Even his Goddess-damn  _ cock _ hurt.

"I truly have no idea what you were expecting from marathon sex," Heinwald told him when Curran complained.

"I don't know either. Now I'm absolutely sure Stephon’s story about sleeping with twin omegas was a lie." He kissed the back of Heinwald’s shoulder, and, when Heinwald turned his head, as far up his cheek as he could manage. After some experimentation with positions the previous rounds, spooning turned out to be the most comfortable position to rest while waiting for Curran’s knot to calm down. They were sticky and sweaty and sore, but from here Curran could rest his chin on Heinwald’s shoulder and he smelled so damn good from here. The smooth column of his throat, too, was extremely tempting, but they’ve only been courting for two weeks. 

"Indeed. Seems impractical," Heinwald said, luckily distracting him from his rambling thoughts of bonding and babies.

Curran sighed into his ear and wiggled about, trying to get more comfortable. In the process of doing so, his knot tugged on the rim of Heinwald’s hole, drawing out a loud moan halfway between pleasure and pain. He may have come again from that sound, but he would never admit it, even to himself.

“Don’t do that again!” Heinwald scolded, reaching back to smack Curran’s shoulder. At the angle they were lying at, he couldn’t get enough leverage to do anything worse then a tap, but Curran still complained.

“Ow! Aren’t omegas supposed to be docile after getting knotted?”

Because he was pressed right up against Heinwald’s back, he was able to feel every muscle in his body go stiff.

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked.

Heinwald remained silent for a moment or two. Then he said slowly, “Is that something you prefer?”

“Huh? No.” Curran lifted his head, trying to make eye contact, but Heinwald stared stubbornly straight ahead, and eventually his neck got tired and he dropped his head back down. “Listen, Hein, I’ve known you for four years now. I know very well exactly the sort of person you are, and I asked to court you anyways.”

“It’s not uncommon for relationships to start with the hopes that one could change your partner one day--”

“Do you really think I’m that sort of guy?” He tried to keep his tone light, but he was honestly a little hurt by the implication.

“No, of course not,” Heinwald immediately replied. It made Curran feel much better.

“Well then shut up, stop worrying, and go to sleep,” he grumbled. He kissed the back of Heinwald’s neck once more, feeling a shiver go up his spine. He did it again, just to get that reaction once more. 

Heinwald didn’t reply, so Curran shut his eyes, planning on taking his own advice and getting some sleep before Heinwald was once more crawling all over him begging for sex.

“...Thank you, Curran.”

He had no idea what Heinwald was thanking him for. Already drifting off, he could only muster the energy to kiss him again and mumble, “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon (warning: depressing): In most bad futures, neither of them outlive the other for long. If Heinwald falls in first, Curran dies trying to protect or recover his body; if Curran dies first, Heinwald sacrifices all of his life force to bring him back to life, only for Curran to essentially "suicide by cop" by continuously volunteering for dangerous situations. The few exceptions are cases where they receive the responsibility of caring for surviving children; in those futures, they usually survive, and when one of them dies, the other has enough purpose to keep going.


	7. Somnophilia

He found Heinwald passed out in the dirt.

He had been sitting on a bench under a tree while waiting for Curran to finish his morning exercise, with  _ had been _ being the key operative word here. He must have fallen asleep and lost his balance, and ended up on his side on the ground, fast asleep.

Given the fact that he was apparently so tired that he didn’t even wake up when he hit the ground, Curran knew that it would be worse then useless trying to rouse him for a walk back to a real bed. So he propped Heinwald up, dusted the grass and the dirt (and a small green bug) off of his skin and hair, and picked him up in his arms.

The return trip to their room was peppered with many smiles, ranging from mocking to affectionate. And this point, the sight of Curran bodily carting Heinwald to and fro was not an unusual one, though most of the time Heinwald was conscious, argumentative, and wiggly.

Inside their bedroom, Curran paused just inside the door. He could feel his own sweat sticking to his skin and shirt, and Heinwald did have some stubborn dirt still stuck to him…

Instead of dumping Heinwald directly onto the bed, Curran detoured for the bathroom.

It took him a moment to figure out how he needed to handle this. In the end, he put Heinwald down in the tub, careful not to knock his head, and left him sleeping there while he stepped out to put on some water to heat. He returned after undressing himself down to his skivvies and began to undress Heinwald too. He’d had a decent bit of practice getting all of Heinwald’s clothes off; but usually the man was an active participant in the process (though there were some times when he would just lazily demand attention).

Finally, he managed to work Heinwald’s underwear off of his legs. He left the room to go check the state of the water, but had to double back because he forgot to remove Heinwald’s glasses and hearing aids. But within a few minutes he managed to get the tub filled up with warm, borderline hot water, and had climbed in himself. The tub was a little small for two people, but if he sat with Heinwald in his lap, they could both fit relatively comfortably. 

Heinwald slept on soundly even as Curran poured handfuls of water over his hair. If anything, the warm water seemed to lull him into an even deeper state of relaxation. He lay completely limp and compliant in his arms.

Curran leaned down and kissed his cheek. To his mild surprise, Heinwald reacted. He turned his face towards the side. From this angle, he could see a ghost of a smile on his face.

Curran smiled down at him. He kissed him again, this time on the lips. It was a light, chaste kiss, but Heinwald sighed happily in his sleep

Under the water, tucked against the curve of Heinwald’s ass, his dick was starting to pay attention. It liked how content Heinwald was. And Curran, too, was wondering just how complete his relaxation was. 

He could test that quite easily. And he did, by dipping a hand under the water and searching about blindly until he brushed up against a familiar hole.

He bit down on his lip as he pressed one finger against him. It opened up easily, allowing his finger in even without any proper lube, even though he hadn’t taken Curran’s cock recently. His cock was stirring more, hardening slowly. It recognized this scenario; this was not the first time they’ve fucked when one or the other was asleep, and hopefully it wouldn’t be the last.

He drained the rapidly-cooling water and extracted himself from the tub. Heinwald remained asleep, though the smile from earlier faded as Curran toweled first himself then Heinwald off. It still didn’t return even as Curran picked him up yet again and whisked him off into the bedroom.

If Heinwald were awake, Curran would tease him for being such a pillow princess as he settled him facedown into the bed. He was tempted to, anyways, but he remained quiet as he got out the lube and slicked up first his hand then his cock.

With the help of the oil, sliding two fingers in was a breeze. He went immediately to scissoring his fingers. A third one was added unceremoniously, and he could feel heat rising to his face as he thought about just how loose Heinwald was.

On a normal day, he would stop at three finger or sometimes even two fingers. Heinwald was a bit of a masochist--okay, who was he kidding, he was a lot of a masochist--and enjoyed the sharp bite of pain from being the tiniest bit underprepared. But today was about relaxation and comfort, and he had no intention of waking Heinwald up prematurely. 

A fourth finger later, and Heinwald was more than ready to take him. He positioned himself above him and slowly pressed his cock inside his unconscious lover.

The glide in was a smooth as a dream. It drew a whispered sigh from Heinwald’s half-open lips, and he shifted underneath him but otherwise didn’t wake.

Curran continued fucking him, slowly, gently. It was so satisfying, fucking him with no resistance and while he loved getting Heinwald off again and again, sometimes it was just as satisfying to simply use his body for his own pleasure. Even more so when Heinwald began to react, snuggled down into the pillows, brow furrowing, smacking his lips. At the same time, he pushed his ass up, welcoming Curran’s dick, all while making small, adorable gasps.

It was those little involuntary noises of pleasure that ended up sending him over the edge. The low, quiet moans went straight to his cock, and he didn’t bother trying to hold it off. When Curran came, he kissed Heinwald’s shoulder blade before pulling out. A drop of come splashed onto purple skin, and he absently wiped it away with his thumb. He entertained the thought of cleaning Heinwald up before tucking him in, but he decided against it.

A hole full of come would be a nice little surprise for him to wake up to, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald has a weird sleep schedule because his brain is always going, which makes it hard for him to sleep. As a child, he would distract himself by reading or reciting math problems or identifying constellations until he fell asleep; as an adult in a relationship he discovered that cuddling with a sleeping Curran and sex were two potent weapons he could add to his sleep-aid arsenal.


	8. Rough sex

The door to their bedroom flew open with a bang and they staggered in, wrapped up in one another. As soon as the door swung shut, Curran slammed Heinwald up against it and kissed him. Heinwald let it happen, kissing back with equal ferocity, hands busily opening up Curran's shirt and immediately plastering to his broad chest.

Not to be outdone, Curran began to frantically unbutton first Heinwald's jacket, then his shirt. As he struggled with the eyelets of his corset, he pulled away with a frustrated growl. "Fuck, why do you have to wear so many fucking layers?"

Heinwald was already working on his pants, but he paused long enough to allow Curran to tug his clothes off of his arms. "To make brutes like you work for it," he panted.

Curran laughed. "Work for it? Hon, you were panting for me. You were so damn desperate--"

"Oh, quiet," Heinwald snapped, returning to his previous mission. 

"Oh? What're you gonna do?"

Heinwald surged up and kissed him again. Curran kissed back, biting down on his lower lip, crowding him against the door

Heinwald tugged Curran's hair.

"Ow! Fucking hurt, you bitch!"

He ignored his whining and demanded, "Take me to bed. Now."

"So fucking greedy. You're lucky you're pretty."

"And you're lucky you're handsome, or I would've thrown you out the door by now."

Curran scowled down at him. In lieu of a reply, he stepped away from the door and tugged Heinwald along, a difficult task when Heinwald refused to take his hands off him. 

He was getting annoyed by the way Heinwald was refusing to help him in his task. So as soon as they were within distance, he struck.

He grabbed Heinwald's wrists and pulled his hands off of his body. Gathering both of his wrists up with one hand, Curran reached for his belt--

Fuck. He was naked. His handcuffs were...on the floor somewhere.

Heinwald smirked at him. “Inquisitors. Useless without their tools."

"I still have one tool here that you can choke on," Curran grumbled sulkily.

Heinwald’s smirk faded and he snarled, "You put that anywhere near my mouth and I will bite it off.”

"So you want it up the ass that badly?" Curran jeered.

Heinwald jerked. Only Curran’s battle-honed reflexes spared him from getting a bony knee in the balls.

"Fuck! You feisty little--"

As he was distracted, Heinwald squirmed out of his grip and grabbed his face in his hands, kissing him roughly. Curran kissed back, but not without dropping his full weight down on the slight body underneath him, pinning Heinwald in place. One hand reached up to cup his jaw, the other grabbed Heinwald's wrist and pinned it to the bed.

His dick was so hard it hurt. He's had enough with foreplay.

He pulled back. Heinwald followed him, propping himself up on one elbow and forcing him to relinquish his grip on his wrist so he could wrap that hand in his hair and pull him away. Heinwald scowled at him. "You--"

Whatever bullshit he was saying was quickly cut off when Curran shoved his fingers into his mouth. "Suck, or you're taking my dick dry."

Heinwald liked  _ that. _ His eyes went hot and heavy, and in a striking display of obedience, laved his tongue over the fingers in his mouth.

Curran really hadn't spoken so soon. Because as soon as he deemed himself finished, Heinwald bit down.

"Ow! Fucking hell! Crazy bitch!"

“I told you I would bite it,” Heinwald said smugly.

Curran swore at him a little bit more, while Heinwald continued smiling at him with that stupid little grin of his. He was obviously getting nowhere, but he was just waiting for the pain in his fingers to fade...so he could shove them into Heinwald’s hole.

“Ah!” In retaliation, Heinwald clawed his fingernails down Curran’s back, hard enough to draw blood. He ignored the bite of pain and pulled his fingers out of him, already lining up his cock. He pushed himself in, surprisingly gentle for what they were just doing.

But when he was halfway in, he slammed the rest of the way as hard as he can.

Heinwald  _ howled. _

He dragged his cock out, feeling the tight walls of his hole clinging to every inch of his cock, and then thrust back in, setting a punishing pace befitting the violent, rough foreplay. Heinwald yowled, louder than a cat in heat, rolling his hips up to meet him with every thrust. His back stung as Heinwald dug his fingers in, and he knew he would wake up tomorrow to angry red welts decorating his back that Heinwald would refuse to heal, forcing him to complete his morning exercises with a shirt on.

He wasn't going to let Heinwald get away with that. So he leaned down and bit down, hard, on Heinwald's shoulder. 

Heinwald did not like the fact that he stopped fucking him to do that. He almost jumped when Heinwald hit his shoulder and shouted, "Faster! Harder!"

Curran growled wordlessly and released his shoulder. Readjusting his grip on his hips, he resumed pounding into him, doing his level best to fuck him into oblivion without shooting off too early.

Luckily, Heinwald was weak-willed when it came to his pleasure, and soon he seized and let out an ear-splitting cry loud enough to wake the dead.

"C'mon, I'm not even close," Curran jeered at him. When he pulled out, Heinwald interrupted his own heavy panting with a weak little moan.

Despite his taunting, it only took him a few strokes before he also came, adding his own spunk to the mess on Heinwald's chest and belly. Post-coital exhaustion quickly overcame him as well, and he lowered himself down to cuddle with his lover.

Heinwald instantly tucked himself under his chin, and he chuckled.

“Laugh while you can,” Heinwald mumbled grumpily. “I’m certain I will be very unhappy with you once the endorphins wear off.”

“I’ll just remind you that you asked for it,” Curran replied. He kissed Heinwald sweetly and shut his eyes to go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald is a scratcher and Curran is a biter.


	9. Fantasy

Heinwald lazily fanned himself with his character’s sheet, watching Curran, Lea, and Euden argue over their party’s plan. 

Despite being early fall, the warmth of the summer had yet to fade; in fact, they actually were in the middle of a terrifically unseasonal heat wave, without the breeze of ocean air to cool them off. The inside of the castle was far too warm, but the outdoors were even worse. He had been planning on sequestering himself away in the lab, which was situated in the dungeons and usually so cold that they had to keep the fires going even in the middle of the summer, but today was Game Day and so he was here, sitting at the table. Usually he would be cursing the weather and plotting some sort of castle-wide heating and cooling system. But today he was plotting something else entirely.

At the start of the session Curran had politely asked permission to take his shirt off.

And currently his dear old friend, his valued partner in crime solving, was leaning over to point out something on the hand-drawn map someone. Heinwald was captivated by every move he made, from the way he leaned on a closed fist to the way he ran a broad hand through his hair, damp with sweat. Before, he might have resisted his mind’s wandering, but things have changed recently. 

Two days ago, they had gone on a date. The two of them had taken an evening walk ‘round the Halidom. At the end of their date, he had waited in front of the door, hoping for a goodnight kiss; Curran had just told him to go to sleep and walked away. Cruel, awful man.

Now, Heinwald did agree that they ought to be slow and careful with taking on this change in the nature of their relationship. There was no need to rush into things, in his humble opinion; in fact, there was something nice about the shy glances and the slow tease of this game they were playing. But still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t...fantasize.

At one point, when they had passed the dragonfruit tree, the bumping of their hands hand turned into true hand-holding. Curran’s hands, he realized then, were broad, with long fingers, and easily encompassed Heinwald’s much more slender palms. He could easily imagine them cupping his cheek or--if he let his mind wander a bit further afield--holding onto his waist. Curran’s carted him around before, picking him up for various reasons, so it was easy to imagine the way his hands would feel through the thick layers of his clothes.

But why bother stopping there? The conversation had dipped into in-character discussions with an NPC, and Curran was sweaty and shirtless across the table.

Heinwald bruised easily. And Curran had a strong grip, which Heinwald often had a front-row seat to while watching him swing around his giant axes like they were mere lollipops. If Curran gripped his hips with even a fraction of his strength, his fingers would leave little bruises along his pelvic bone. While Curran was a careful, thoughtful man, perhaps if he was sufficiently distracted--say, with a swift kiss?--he would inadvertently tighten his grip and leave his mark on Heinwald’s skin. Of course, that would only happen if Heinwald was nude in his arms. And whatever--this was a fantasy; Curran could be undressed as well.

He’s seen Curran sans clothing before, and not just at length, and not just shirtless. He had a nice thick cock that Heinwald’s, admittedly, stolen one or two deliberate glances of, even before their relationship evolved beyond that of just friends. He wanted to hold it in his hands and feel the weight of it, feel it hardening in his grip. He wanted to take it in his mouth, to see the surprise on his face as he took the whole thing in his mouth, or maybe a scornful or bored expression that’ll make Heinwald’s face heat as he performed for him.

He felt a shiver run up his spine at that turn of phrase, and he rolled it around in his mind a little bit, enchanted by the twin spells of Curran's bared arms and his own imagination. He never considered himself a particularly sexual being, but Curran was an exceptionally attractive man, and now that they’ve confirmed their desires, there was no more need for him to resist the spark of lust. 

Perhaps he could masturbate tonight, thinking of Curran. Lie on his bed with his legs spread, fingering himself, contorting to touch his own prostate, and pretending that he was preparing himself for his friend-turned-lover. Preparing himself to take that big cock inside of him, and my, my, my, wasn’t that a delicious thought? Curran leaning over him, pushing inside, spreading him open, and filling him up to the brim at first with his cock and then with his come.

He wondered what sort of lover Curran would be. Would he be gentle or rough? Dominant or accommodative? Would he pound into his body with single-minded determination, or would he move at a teasingly slow pace? He wondered if their spirited, never ending discussions would continue into bed, or if they would be quiet with nothing to say other than each other’s name.

He wouldn’t be wondering for much longer. He hoped.

Now Curran was shaking his head vigorously. The motion sent a small bead of sweat rolling down the side of his throat, just underneath the sharp edge of his jaw. He wanted to crawl over the table, knocking aside the plethora of dice and papers, and wipe it away...with his tongue. He imagined Curran’s bare arms wrapping around his waist, rucking up his shirt….

“Heinwald?”

He pulled his eyes away from Curran and blinked slowly at Euden. “Yes?”

“Got any input?” the prince asked.

Heinwald shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Euden shot him a chagrined smile as Curran chuckled. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest, and teased, “Why are you even here, then?”

Elisanne, sitting next to Euden, winced. “Please don’t start--”

“He’s not serious, he’s just...being a tease,” Heinwald assured her, then he looked at Curran. “Pardon me I’m merely...distracted.” He deliberately let his gaze drift down his face to the column of his throat, and he smirked. “Perhaps I’ll tell you why later.”

He watched with glee as a red flush slowly developed on Curran’s chest, spreading up to his neck and creeping up to his face. Out of the corner of his eye, the other players began to look confused.

He simply sat back in his chair, satisfied. This will certainly be a fun session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald plays a female magic-user named Lorena with a very extensive backstory and detailed reasons why she has each spell that she has; Curran plays an equivalent of a Spirit Totem Barbarian who originally started out with very little personality or even a name or gender; but eventually his barb began to develop a personality and backstory simply because Curran is best at speaking to NPCs. Their characters were actually in a budding romance when they started their romantic relationship.
> 
> The other players I've decided on are Lea, Euden, and Elisanne (who is just here for Euden; she's not a very comfortable player yet but she's slowly developing a taste for it). IDK who their GM/DM is (I was thinking Audric?) or any other players, but those are the ones I know are there.


	10. Public Sex

When he felt a slight weight on his shoulder, he grinned. Turning his head slowly, as to not jostle his new parcel, he saw a mess of fluffy hair against his shoulder.

"He's asleep," Vixel informed him helpfully. He didn't even bother lowering his voice; Heinwald slept on peacefully.

Curran just chuckled. Again, the slight motion didn't bother Heinwald in the slightest, and neither did the hand brushing across his face, sweeping aside his bangs just for a moment before they fell back into place.

The toasty water of the hot spring was making Curran sleepy, too, but unlike Heinwald he had a normal sleep schedule and could resist the allure. He usually tried to coax his lover back into bed after a certain amount of time, but sometimes Heinwald deliberately hid from him to delay his bedtime. Like a child. 

Not to say that it wasn't nice, sitting in a hot spring with an adorably sleepy lover against his side.

The other member of their hot spring, Fritz, stretched and got up. "I'm heading back. How about you guys?"

"I'm coming with you," said Vixel, a little too quickly. Curran resisted the urge to raise a brow, filed that away to bring up with Heinwald, and said,

"I'm stuck here as that guy's pillow for the time being."

"You want me to wake him up?" offered Fritz.

"He needs the sleep," Curran grumbled.

Both men laughed, and after quick see-you-later's and towel-securing, they both departed, falling into conversation along the way.

Curran relaxed against the rocks at his back, heaving out a happy sigh. Fluffy white clouds drifted lazily overhead, breaking up the monotony of the wide blue skies. It was a clear and crisp autumn day, and crinkled brown leaves floated by, spurred on by the wind. It was good to enjoy a moment of blessed peace.

A little bit later, when he was truly wondering if he should maybe take a nap as well, Heinwald stirred. His head lifted slightly, then he sat up with an adorable, kittenish yawn. 

Curran smiled at him. "Good morning, sunshine."

"We are alone," Heinwald observed, sounding surprisingly alert after his brief nap.

"Yeah," Curran agreed, eyeing him up.

"Hmm." Heinwald looked up at him, considering. Then he moved.

He swung his leg over Curran's lap, settling his thin, bony frame in his favorite seat. Curran grinned up at him and leaned up for a kiss. "Were you pretending to be asleep so we can make out in the hot spring?"

"No, I was pretending to be asleep so I could offer you a handjob in the hot spring," Heinwald replied.

He kissed Curran, interrupting his surprise. Curran leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist. He ran his fingers over every bump of his spine, then held him close as the kiss lasted.

When Heinwald pulled away for air, Curran cocked a brow at him. "A handjob? We're in the communal hot springs."

"Indeed."

"Anyone can walk in on us."

"The water is cloudy enough that they won't see."

"You expect me to come in this water?"

"The refresh rate is fast. It'll be completely gone before the next time anyone takes a dip."

To be honest, they were only token protests anyways. He kissed Heinwald again.

When they parted, Heinwald was grinning smugly at him.

Their towels were quickly discarded onto the rocks. Curran leaned back against the rocks, content to let Heinwald take the lead on this. And he did, scooting in closer and taking both of their cocks in his hands.

Well, his perfect day just got a lot better: not only was the weather good and the water warm, but now he had his beautiful boyfriend on his lap jerking him off. He had an adorable look on concentration on his face, even though--true to his word--neither of them could quite see his hand moving underneath the water, only the ripples that formed with each stroke.

Curran tilted his head back, letting the pleasure of his tight grip and the heat of another cock pressed against his own creep up his belly. He let out an approving, though quiet, groan. “You’ve magical hands, honey,” he told Heinwald, as if he needed any more validation.

Heinwald smirked at him, then leaned in and kissed his throat. At the same time, he pressed a thumb against the slit at the head of his cock and rolled his hips, keeping up the slow, unhurried pace.

He could feel an impending orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, but no hurry to do anything about it. He only wrapped an arm around Heinwald’s lower back, holding him close. Then he got a fun little idea: he slid that hand down, down, down, and pressed one finger against Heinwald’s little hole.

He jumped a little, as if surprised, even though Curran was clearly cataloguing his movements, and let out a moan that lengthened as he came unexpectedly. His hand paused, and then sped up, stroking Curran’s cock with a little bit more determination than before. Curran didn’t bother denying himself any longer, and soon he came as well, giving Heinwald a little kiss on the cheek as a reward.

That kiss turned into another one, and another one, and then they were just making out in the hot spring, hands in each other's hair and chests pressed tight together.

Curran was just beginning to hope that his own "refresh rate" was going to be quick when the bushes rustled.

Before either of them could react, Estelle stepped out of the bushes. She stopped and scowled. “When I heard there was some untoward behavior happening in the hot springs, I should have known it was you two!”

“We were just kissing!” Curran yelped. Heinwald coughed delicately, doing his best not to draw Estelle’s attention to their discarded towels.

But she still drew herself up to her full height. “OBSCENE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a D&D setting, Heinwald would be a Wizard in the school of Lore Mastery, and Curran would be a Champion Fighter.


	11. Solo

Heinwald kept his head tilted down, looking at the floor by Curran’s feet.

His rear end burned pleasantly. He had spent the last some amount of minutes--he couldn’t even keep track--getting spanked by his love for a transgression of his own manufacture. 

(He had served Curran tea with salt in it. It was amusing to watch him spit it out, and it was even more pleasing to get yanked down over his lap and spanked until he was moaning and begging for more.)

Now, however, he was kneeling on the cold stone floor. Curran had ordered him to remove the rug from the floor, and it currently sat rolled up against the door. He hoped that his prediction of their next activity was correct. His cock was already twitching in his hand with the mere thought.

“Lie down on your side.” Heinwald obeyed him instantly. “You can look at me--actually, scratch that, you should look at me.” He raised his eyes, almost shyly, moving up those long legs, lingering for a second on his cock, hard and held loosely in his hand, and up to his face. “Now, touch yourself. Get yourself off however you want. No toys, though, just your hands. Let me know if you need more lube.”

He swallowed down the whine bubbling up his throat. He squirmed into position, deliberately attempting to be seductive, just to see the heat flame up in Curran’s eyes. His fingers were already oiled, from where he spread it onto Curran’s cock, so without further ado he pressed his fingers on his right hand against himself, wrapping his left hand around his own cock.

He bit his lip as he tried to press his own fingers as deep into himself as he could, doing his best to brush against his own prostate, as his left hand busily stroked his own cock. He couldn’t quite get his fingers in deep enough, and he had to pull them out and try again at a different angle several times, trying to spread his legs, at one point shifting onto his belly to try and reach it. All the while, Curran just sat on the bed, watching him struggle.

He was a bit out of practice, getting himself off with just his hands. He’s had a toy or two stashed away in his dresser for a long time, and nowadays if he wished for an orgasm he had a very willing assistant in the form of Curran. But, luckily for him, he was already close to completion--from getting spanked, from the force of Curran’s eyes on him.

Before he could truly start trying Curran’s patience, his orgasm overtook him. He made sure to that his cry was unmuffled as he came, spilling mostly onto the floor at the angle he was lying. Afterwards, he couldn’t resist shyly glancing up, checking to see if Curran approved of his little display; he noticed to his delight that Curran’s grip had tightened on his cock, and it was already wet with precome, just from watching Heinwald touch himself.

When Curran spoke, he could hear the undercurrent of strain that he was clearly trying to suppress underneath his “domineering” voice. He made a mental note to himself to tease Curran about it later, but quickly forced himself to refocus on the actual content of his words. “Aw, honey, you looked so good, jerking yourself off for me. But you made a mess of the floor, didn’t you?”

His eyes, Heinwald realized, were still transfixed on his cock. He tore them away and forced himself to lower his eyes demurely. “Yes, sir.”

He resisted the urge to look up when the bed creaked and Curran rose to his feet. He stopped a few feet away from him and purred, “Get on your knees, baby.” Heinwald scrambled to obey. As soon as he was settled, Curran leaned over, pressing a finger underneath his chin and tilting his head up.

Maintaining eye contact, Curran only had to stroke himself twice before he came, biting down hard on his own lower lip. Heinwald could feel some of his come dripping onto his bare knee as he hazily thought half-formed thoughts about replacing his teeth with his own.

“Oh look, I’ve made a mess as well.” Curran’s cocksure voice cut off his mind’s wandering. “Why don’t you clean it up, baby? Without using your hands.” He let go of Heinwald’s face, and straightened up.

Heinwald bowed his head. With just a touch of hesitation, he leaned over and lapped up a mouthful of come from the floor.

At Curran’s loud, seemingly involuntary groan of delight, he couldn’t help but grin a little smug grin to himself in a very non-submissive manner. It was a shame that his lover had come already. He was curious to see if he could make Curran orgasm just by doing this little display. Well, there was always next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned this in a previous chapter, but it warrants a separate headcanon space: They are extremely chatty in bed. They talk, they banter, they bicker, everything.


	12. Shibari

Curran felt like every nerve ending was on alert. Whenever Heinwald so much as shifted, he felt a primal urge to glance up at him. Though he tried to focus on his report, the words meant nothing to him, not when there was a much more interesting event going on some five feet away from him.

If someone walked into their office, they would be treated to an incredibly typical sight: Heinwald was in his office chair, writing some letters, and Curran was filling out reports, sitting in the red armchair they (he) had dragged in so he no longer had to perch uncomfortably on stacks of books in order to sit and work alongside Heinwald. If that hypothetical someone had spent the last year observing their habits, perhaps they would have noticed that Heinwald was being a tad bit more wiggly than usual; while hyperactivity could usually be chalked up to boredom, Heinwald was also much less vocally displeased than usual. And of course, unless that hypothetical someone had spent an uncomfortable amount of time observing their bedroom activities, there was no way they could truly know the cause of their unusual behavior.

Curran knew, though. 

He knew that underneath Heinwald’s layers of clothing, he was wrapped up in black ropes, criss-crossing his body, knotted in strategic locations. He had tied them there, weaving the ropes around and around, squinting at the instructional manual Heinwald had brought home and arguing about  _ was it supposed to go under? No, that’s stupid, it can’t be-- _

(was it weird to find their bickering cute and sexy? He wasn’t really sure.)

Anyways.

Heinwald, being the massive tease that he was, had disappeared into their closet with a plan. Curran had waited for him, curious and confused; today was one of their days in, so normally Heinwald would be wearing his pajamas and his dressing gown, but if he was going into their closet, perhaps he had plans to wear something a bit...more involved? But instead of coming out wearing one of his pretty dresses or lingerie sets as Curran had half-expected, Heinwald had emerged wearing...his normal clothes. Looking exactly like he did on any other day. And  _ that _ turned out to be the biggest tease of all.

There was something incredibly exciting about seeing Heinwald look so natural, like he could be going to meet with a client or go into town, all while trussed up underneath his clothes, and no one would have any way of knowing. Except for Curran.

Heinwald shifted in his seat. As he did, he let in a sharp intake of breath. That quiet sound, breaking the silence of shuffling papers and squeaking pens, made Curran’s cock twitch in his suddenly-too-tight pants.

He knew the cause of that sound. 

He had tied a certain knot in the rope. He had carefully lubed up that knot. That knot was positioned strategically so that whenever Heinwald sat down it would pop into his tight little hole, and whenever he stood up it would pop out. Right now it was inside of him, just barely so, and whenever he shifted his weight from side to side it would tug at the rim of his hole, not quite enough to slide out without a total shift in position but just enough to tease--

_ Snap. _

Heinwald jerked. Then he looked up at him with faint alarm and amusement, and Curran realized that he had snapped his pen in two.

He cleared his throat and carefully set down the pen, wiping the black ink coating his hand on his pants. “Well, doesn’t look like I should be doing any more work today,” he said, mournfully looking down at the paper he was working on. It was now covered in splotches of black ink, which meant he had to do it over.

Heinwald smirked at him, and he raised a brow back, waiting for whatever stupid, teasing comment he’ll make.

“Perhaps we should work out some of your...tension?”

Oh. Oh, okay.

Heinwald giggled and Curran schooled away the surprise from his face, replacing it with a sly smile. “Sure. It sounds like you’re going to help me with that?”

Heinwald’s response was to reach for the top button of his shirt. Curran’s grin grew wider and wider as the black ropes emerged into view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald's favorite meal/comfort food is tea and toast.


	13. Threesome

Someone knocked on the door.

Neither of them moved from their positions--Heinwald, sitting up in the bed, Curran, lying down with his head in his lap, both of them holding books--but they did look up as Althemia poked her head in. 

“Um, you two better come down to the lab.”

The two investigators exchanged a glance.

***

Heinwald entered the lab first, closely followed by Curran. As soon as they stepped through the door, they immediately saw what Althemia no doubt summoned them for.

Curran’s jaw dropped open. “What the hell…?”

Heinwald, meanwhile, developed a slightly maniacal grin. “Oh, hello.”

Standing in the center of the lab, getting prodded by Sinoa, with a sheepish grin on his face, was another Curran. “Um, hey.”

“He refuses to explain without the two of you here,” said Euden. Neither of them noticed his presence, but he was standing off to the side, along with Kleimann, Ranzal, and Elisanne. “Now that they’re here, can you…”

“Sorry, Euden, I just didn’t want to explain this more than once,” said Curran. The other Curran. “Okay, I know this’ll sound really stupid, because I lived through this standing in  _ your  _ spot.” And he gestured at Curran. The original Curran.

Curran’s eyes narrowed. If he had an axe, he would be reaching for it. “Buddy--”

“I’m you from a few weeks into the future. Sinoa will do something, an explosion will occur, and then I’ll end up transported a few weeks back in time for about three days, then I’ll disappear and reappear back in the future.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

Then Sinoa clapped her hands happily. “Ah! So my idea worked! I’ll get to work on it right away!”

“Are we sure that it’s you, Curran? We’ve had run-ins with shapeshifters in the past…” said Elisanne.

Future Curran looked over at Current...Curran. Then he beckoned him over. After a moment’s hesitation, Curran walked over, and future Curran cupped his hand around his ear and whispered something to him. Everyone in the room watched, some with confusion, some with fascination, as current Curran’s eyes widened and a grin appeared on his face, only to get quickly schooled away.

When future Curran leaned back, current Curran looked at him. “Really?”

He nodded.

“He’s really me, guys,” Curran announced to the room at large. Then he made a face. “Gah, this is really fucking weird.”

“Trust me, I know,” said future Curran, with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, if you’re not a security threat, and you’re only going to be here for a few days…” said Euden, “Um, enjoy your stay in the past?”

“Thanks, Prince.” Then future Curran’s grin faded. He turned to Heinwald, who was still standing in the doorway, and was silent the whole time. “Um, can I talk to you two? In private?”

There was really no question who “you two” were. Both Curran and Heinwald nodded, and followed the future one out the door of the lab.

Future Curran easily led the two of them up through the castle to the room they shared. Which, probably shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was, considering that it was his bedroom too.

Once the door had closed soundly behind the three of them, future Curran turned around, once more with a sheepish smile, with blood already running up to his cheeks. “Okay, I know both of you are thinking the same thing, because, again, I lived through this experience on your side, and it’s really fucking weird to be standing on this side of the room, but anyways, I’m here to tell you--yes, we did have a threesome. And in fact,” he addressed Curran, “we spent the whole three days that I spent in the past basically doing nothing but fuck Heinwald.”

Present Curran looked at Heinwald. Heinwald looked back at him, anticipation clear in his wide red eyes.

***

Heinwald opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to try and lick the head of the thick, familiar cock hovering just beyond his lips as the same cock nudged against his hole.

He had lost track of which Curran was “his” Curran--though, technically speaking, they were both his, only one was his from a very, very near future--during the part when they were kissing each other, lubricating each other’s cocks for his viewing pleasure, and he was further addled when one of them held him onto his lap, kissing him senseless, while the other fingered him from behind and left bloodied half-moon teeth imprints on his shoulder. Now one Curran had his hair tightly wound around his fingers, while the other held a vice grip on his hips as he up his cock from behind.

It had been absolute torture, lying on the bed and listening to the two of them plan what they were going to do to him. Curran was more experienced with the colloquial terms for sex acts than he was, and despite his application of deductive reasoning they refused to give him a straight answer on what  _ dp, sloppy seconds, spitroasting _ meant in the context of sex. All they said when he had persistently asked was, “You’ll find out soon enough, honey.”

His first lesson, apparently, was on “spitroasting.” Which, of course, led back to his current position: bent over at the waist between two versions of his handsome, strong, attractive lover. And both of them had apparently decided that they’d like to waste the time they had together teasing him. Curran’s cock hovered tantalizingly in front of him, and no matter what he tried, the grip on his hair was firm. 

He stopped and glared upwards. “Are either of you two going to move anytime soon?”

“Sorry, honey,” Curran said, not sounding sorry at all. 

“I don’t want an apology,” he grumbled. “I want to get  _ fucked. _ ”

The expletive made both Currans burst out into laughter. Usually he would delight in being able to make his lover laugh, but right now it just infuriated him more. He pouted, which at least elicited a little sympathy from the one in front.

“All right, all right, if you want it that badly…”

Heinwald’s next impatient demand was cut off by him shoving his cock down his throat.

Not to be outdone, the Curran behind also pushed his cock in, a touch more eagerly than he normally would have; with four hands available during foreplay, he was more than ready to take whatever his  _ two _ lovers wanted to give him.

Sleeping with two men at once had never been a fantasy of his--he had not had sexual interest in  _ anyone _ before he met Curran, and as a man with a sibling the notion of sleeping with a hypothetical identical twin had only made him vaguely uncomfortable--but now, pinned between two identical versions of his boyfriend, who both knew exactly how he liked to get used…

Well. Suffice to say that the small part of his brain currently clinging to rationality was wondering if it was possible to control this...time travel mechanism. 

The two Curran remained in him for a moment, letting him adjust to the heft of their cocks inside of him. And then they started to move.

In the beginning, there was no coordination between them; each man set his own pace, making it impossible for him to predict if he’ll gag on a cock or feel one hit his prostate or both at the same time. After a while, the one in the back intensified his pace, and the one in the front slowed, more content to brush his hands through his hair, so with each thrust into his ass he was pushed down onto the cock in his mouth.

Both Currans were quiet, simply fucking into him and enjoying the muffled moans and squeaks and gagging noises he made at every thrust into either of his holes. Then one of them started talking over the sounds.

“Hey. In the future, we should figure out how to send Heinwald back in time. It’d be pretty hot, watching him make out with himself.”

The other replied, “I agree. I want to make one of them fuck the other. It’ll be cute watching them fight over who gets to be the bottom bitch.”

Heinwald’s cheeks flushed red. The topic of conversation was...affecting enough, but it was mostly the tone they spoke in: as if they were catching up at a bar over a drink, not like they both had their cocks in one lover simultaneously.

“Why are you blushing?” A hand stroked his cheek, and Heinwald leaned into it as best as he could, pressing his tongue up against the underside of the cock in his mouth. “Is it because you’re looking forward to it? You like putting on a show for me, don’t you?”

“He’s blushing?”

“Yep.” Heinwald looked up, making eye contact with Curran, seeing him grin down at him. “He started turning red when we were talking.”

“Little jealous that I can’t see it.” Curran broke their eye contact to look up at the other. “But I think I can make him blush just as prettily back here.”

Heinwald jumped when Curran slapped his ass.

The one in the front pushed his cock into his mouth, all the way to the root, and stayed there, watching with delight as Curran spanked him, punctuating each blow with a savage thrust. Heinwald moaned, closing his eyes, feeling tears start to trickle out of his eyes. He began to actively suck, swallowing hard around the head deep in his throat.

“I was never really into the idea of sharing you, honey.” He was talking again, and the slowly fading blush was returning in full force, no doubt matching his reddening ass. “But now I have some serious ideas.”

“Like a gangbang. Imagine that, honey--we’ll get a couple of more versions of me, and we’ll pass you around the room so you’ll always have a nice cock filling you up.”

"You’ll love it, won’t you?” He nodded, bobbing head head eagerly, and both Currans laughed at him. “Such a nasty little slut. You’ll service us so well.”

“You’re already getting started. You look so happy, with two dicks in you, getting both holes filled at once--”

Curran cut himself off when Heinwald jerked and came. The sensation of Heinwald tightening around his cock sent him over the edge, and he came inside of him before immediately pulling out, admiring the sight of come dripping out of his hole and down his shaking legs. The other Curran pulled out of Heinwald’s mouth, unmuffling his heaving gasps, and jerked himself off, coming on Heinwald’s face, drawing out another happy moan.

A few minutes of hasty clean-up later, and Heinwald was ensconced comfortably in between his two lovers, eyes closed, already drifting off into a warm, protected sleep.

Then he heard what sounded suspiciously like a high-five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing Future Curran said to Present Curran as proof of identity was, "You have a ring hidden in your weapon storage. He'll say yes."


	14. Voyeurism

Curran was not in the best of moods. 

First of all, they were on yet another long march, which always made him grumpy. Second of all, Heinwald was nowhere to be seen in the camp, so he didn’t even have his favorite form of stress relief with him. And most damningly, Julietta had tripped while carrying a mug of beer, landing facedown in his lap and completely dousing his shirt. And they had somehow managed to get horribly tangled up in each other, which prolonged the embarrassing situation as they tried to detach from one another while the hard edges of her armor dug into his flesh and the rowdier members of the army hooted and hollered and the more pious members of the army yelled about indecency. Afterwards, Curran had beat a hasty retreat, planning to a) go rinse his shirt off in the river and b) go track down Heinwald for a bit of stroking of his horribly bruised ego.

He managed to get both objectives done in one go, for when he went down to the river, he found Heinwald, wading into the water, completely nude.

Heinwald went into the river up to his waist before slowly sinking down and dipping his head under the water. For such a deliberately careless man, he moved with such elegance as he sat back up and ran his hands through his hair, and Curran surmised that he was here for a bath. And though his damp shirt was still sticking uncomfortably to his stomach, his mood had lifted considerably.

By the Goddess, Curran was a lucky man. Heinwald’s now-damp hair was clinging to his back, the ends fanning out in the water like an ink spill. With his long hair and his slim body, decked out in shades of purple and white and black, he looked like some sort of forest nymph, like a creature Curran should run out and try and capture or maybe one that would get him smote by the Goddess for looking at with an impure heart. But he was neither of those things; he was Curran’s dear lover. And if Curran wanted to hide in the bushes and watch him lecherously, well, there was nothing stopping him.

Heinwald ran his fingers through his hair, scrubbing them back and forth, and Curran thought about his own hands in those long locks, either gently stroking his scalp as Heinwald cuddled against his chest, or brushing his hair and feeling the knots disappear until they were naught but soft silk, or wrecking his own handiwork by gripping his hair, wrapping it several times around his hand, and using it as a handhold to guide Heinwald’s head around as he fucked his cock into his loose throat.

He trailed his palms up his arm, up to his shoulder and then his back, and Curran thought about dragging his tongue up that spirling stitch and leaving teeth marks high on those shoulders, about wrapping his arms around that bony frame and slotting Heinwald comfortably against his chest, about pinning his thin wrist down onto the bed--

“How long are you planning on standing there?”

Curran grinned and moved out from behind the bush, but only just far enough to lean against a tree, still mostly in the woods. Heinwald’s head turned slightly in his direction, but he otherwise did not move from his place in the river. “However long it takes you to finish your bath.”

Even from this far away, he knew Heinwald was rolling his eyes at him. “For a man of the Goddess, you’re awfully perverted, you know.” Despite his apparent annoyance, he shamelessly resumed bathing.

“I’m just appreciating Her design,” Curran replied, feeling a wide grin splitting his face. “Praise be to the Goddess, for bestowing upon the world such a great work of beauty, yadda yadda.”

Heinwald chuckled. “Heretic.” 

“Whore.”

That startled a loud laugh out of Heinwald. “Hooligan! How dare you call me a whore?”

“What else would I call a man who performs sexual acts for another man’s pleasure?” Curran volleyed back.

“This is sexual for you?” asked Heinwald. He finally turned around at the waist to truly look at him, so he could cock a brow.

“No, but it will be once I ask you to touch yourself.”

The other brow rose to join its fellow.

“You had no problem putting on a show for me before,” Curran said, because of course Heinwald no doubt knew he was there from the second he started tramping through the woods. “C’mon, I want to watch you.”

“You claim I am your Goddess’ gift to you, and this is how you treat me?”

“I’ll make sure to thank Her later, after I’ve finished cleansing myself of these impure thoughts.” As he spoke, he opened up his pants, finally freeing his half-hard cock. Heinwald’s eyes were immediately drawn to it, and he was already shifting in the water, repositioning himself so he could do as Curran requested.

And even as he slipped a finger inside himself, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Hedonist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald's so thin because, unbeknownst to anyone, his caloric requirements are higher than a typical human's of his activity level, from both his incredible brainpower and his otherworldly heritage. Even Curran's carefully prepared meals, portioned and balanced for a normal human diet, are actually a little lacking, so Heinwald does not gain weight, much to Curran's confusion.


	15. Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pseudo-sequel to part 3.
> 
> Hey! Halfway through the month!

When Heinwald walked into the dining room, Curran quickly pushed away his axe. He knew he was in for a treat today--Heinwald had his dressing robe on, but it was untied at the waist, hanging open to show off the lacy, revealing outfit he was wearing underneath. He was barefoot, wearing nothing but stockings, and his steps were near-silent as he came over.

Curran smirked at him. He pushed the chair out so he was sitting parallel to the table, facing Heinwald as he rounded the table. “You look like you belong in a brothel.”

“Was that intended as a compliment?” Heinwald asked, with a crooked smile. He didn’t deny the accusation.

“It was. Towards me. Since I get all of this for free.” Curran leered at him and Heinwald rolled his eyes.

“Haven’t you been checking your mail? I’ve been sending you invoices for years now.”

He roared with laughter, and Heinwald giggled along. He closed the distance between them and sat down on Curran’s lap, kissing his forehead and running his fingers through his blond hair. Curran tilted his head up, welcoming the next kiss on the lips. Those slender hands slid down his face, down his neck, onto his chest (where they paused, briefly, to grope the muscles there) and then back to wrap around his wrists. Curran relaxed into the kiss, going limp, letting Heinwald shift on his lap and direct him where he wanted--

_ Click. _

Curran broke the kiss to glance over his shoulder. His eyes only confirmed what he heard and felt: his wrists were cuffed together behind his back. When he looked back at Heinwald, with a scowl already forming, he had on a shit-eating grin.

"I have decided to take my revenge. For the time that you left me to stew in bondage for hours.”

Oh, yes, Curran remembered that. Heinwald had looked so indignant, legs spread and all prepped for use with nobody to use him. That method was already filed away in his arsenal of ways to punish Heinwald when he was acting up.

"Aw, you're going to give me a taste of my own medicine? Lube me up and leave me waiting for you?"

"No. You have a considerably higher self-control than I. I cannot deny myself my pleasures, so I will be staying right here."

The handcuffs were nothing if he got his sexy boyfriend to stick around. “If this is your way of punishing me, I--”

Curran cut himself off and gaped down at the cock ring Heinwald had slipped onto him while he was talking. Then he looked up to glare at Heinwald’s smug grin. “Hey. Fuck you.”

Heinwald smirked at him. Deliberately slowly, he pulled the dressing gown off his own shoulders and dropped it to the ground. “Shall we?”

***

_ “Fu-cking hell.” _

He had to count his blessings, though. Even though he’s been needing to come for the past--fucking  _ hour, _ at least right now Heinwald didn’t have anything snarky to say to him in response to his colorful language.

Well, it wasn’t that Heinwald didn’t have anything to say. It was that Heinwald currently had his cock in his mouth, and he was going to town on it like he was trying to suck Curran’s soul out through his dick.

Heinwald hummed, making Curran shout and attempt to jerk his hips up; but after a successful surprise ambush that made Heinwald choke he had wised up and taken off his garter belts to hold Curran down by the thighs. And he had made that into a torture in and of itself: stripping off his garter belts slowly and seductively, while Curran’s cock ached just from the sight of him.

As a part of his punishment, Heinwald had done everything that typically took Curran ages of wheedling to get from him: he had climbed in his lap and given him a lap dance, rubbing his clothed ass against his cock. He had given a nice display of that filthy mouth of his, whispering all sorts of naughty ideas into his ear, telling Curran just how much he appreciated his cock.

Then he had slid off his lap. After another sexy dance, and good Goddess where did Heinwald learn to do shit like that? he had sank down onto his knees, kneeling on his own discarded robe, and began to suck his dick.

That seemed to be too flippant of a statement to truly describe the wreckage Heinwald was inflicting on him using only his tongue. He licked Curran’s cock, base to tip, slowly dragging his tongue up the shaft. He swallowed down just the head, leaving the rest of Curran’s poor cock neglected as he lavished attention to the slit up there, before pulling back to lap at the precome slowly leaking out, purring like a cat that just got the cream. Then he had taken the whole thing in his mouth, showing off his deepthroating skills.

Of course, Curran had kept up a steady stream of expletive-filled commentary, calling him a bitch, a slut, a whore, threatening to break free and pin him down and fuck his ass relentlessly. Instead of being insulted, Heinwald alternated between looking amused and looking flattered, especially after Curran threatened to fuck him asleep and then ship him off to a whorehouse.

Finally, Heinwald pulled off of his cock with a lewd pop. He sat back on his haunches, licking his lips, with such a smug look on his face. Curran scowled down at him, already gearing up for another round of inventive insults. Before he could truly launch into a tirade, Heinwald stood up again.

Curran groaned. “C’mon, baby, just let me come in that ass of yours. You know how much you love having my come filling you up.”

“I do,” Heinwald agreed readily. Then Curran boggled at him as he bent over and slid off his panties. “My revenge is nearly over, my love.” Then he moved closer and carefully positioned himself above Curran’s cock and sat down.

“Fuck!” There was nothing in Ilia’s good green earth than Heinwald’s tight ass around his cock. He groaned, closing his eyes against the tempting image of Heinwald’s face contorted with pleasure. That turned out to be a bad move, since now he had nothing to focus on except for the sensation of Heinwald opening up for his cock as he slid on home.

He opened his eyes again. When Heinwald said earlier that he was bad at denying himself his pleasures, he was absolutely right: he already looked close to coming, just from putting on a slutty act for Curran. His eyes were welling up with tears, and Curran wondered if he had underprepped himself--he probably did, because he loved the pain and because he knew that the tightness would be another form of torture for Curran. He had something mean to say about that, but it instantly flew out of his head when Heinwald slowly, painfully lifted himself up and sat down again, slightly faster.

Heinwald rode him, and he was not shy about being vocal about it too. He moaned, he gasped, he whimpered and whined, and all of the noises went straight to Curran’s cock and reminded him again and again just how fucking badly he needed to come.

Finally, after another eternity, Heinwald came, moaning as he spilled all over Curran’s abdomen. He leaned forward, cuddling up against Curran’s chest, panting, and Curran almost bruised his own wrists instinctively trying to bring up his bound hands to hug him back. It took him a while to recover from his orgasm, and he stayed skewered on Curran’s cock the whole damn time. 

Once he had gathered his wits, he rose, lifting himself off of his cock. Without another word, he tugged off the cock ring, finally freeing Curran, and sat back down. That was all Curran needed to finally come, groaning with pained relief as his cock spilled into Heinwald’s body.

After a long moment, Curran spoke. “You know, they say ‘an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind.’"

“Yet here I sit, eagerly awaiting  _ your _ revenge,” Heinwald replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald's sex ed comes from books and "experimentation" with himself, and Curran's comes from overhearing "locker room talk" in the Inquisitor barracks.


	16. Ritual

Water flowed over his head as small hands ran through his hair, rinsing out the soap. 

He opened his eyes. Behind him, the attendant with the water jug was pouring water over his shoulders and back, murmuring lowly to the other. 

They were complimenting his body. He shifted, a tad bit uncomfortable. To distract himself, he reached out a hand. There was a small flurry as the third attendant rushed over with a tray of snacks and drink.

Curran ignored the tinctures in small bottles and the glass of purple wine in favor of the gently steaming cup of mint tea. He had no need for neither sedative nor stimulant, only something to slow his fluttering heart.

The tea did nothing, for his ears picked up the muffled sound of collectively moving footsteps and his heart rate quickened again. He handed off his teacup to the attendant and waited for the other to finish rubbing a towel through his hair. Then he rose and climbed out of the bath. 

Unhurried, he crossed the room, skirting the edge of the bath with its clouded-blue water. As the attendants followed him, he opened up the double doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

The balcony looked out over the ritual valley. In the center of the valley lay the altar. It was surrounded by curtains, shielding the occupants from view of the people standing along the valley walls, but from up high Curran could see the stone table easily. Across the way was a matching bathhouse. Its doors were closed, but he still leaned on the railing and watched intently. 

As the attendants toweled him dry and applied sweet-smelling oil to his skin and hair, as the small figures down below took their spots, Curran waited and watched.

A hush fell over the valley below.

The doors across opened up.

Onto the balcony stepped Heinwald, with a thin white sheet wrapped around his shoulders. He looked first down into the valley, then looked up. He smiled when he spotted Curran looking at him. Curran raised a hand, but before he could return it, one of his attendants had taken him by the elbow and began to guide him down the stairs, descending into the valley.

The attendant led Heinwald towards the altar in the center, but stopped an acceptable distance away, leaving him to take the last few steps alone. Heinwald lifted the curtain and sat on the altar. He was now hidden from view, but Curran could still see down onto him as he carefully arranged the sheet to shield himself from the cold stone.

His attendant was handing him his own cloth. He wrapped it around his shoulders as well and turned away. He allowed the attendant to escort him similarly into the valley.

The grass was damp with morning dew under his feet. The people standing around bowed their heads as he passed. He was probably walking a little too fast for proprietary, but how could he not, knowing what--or who--lay waiting on the other side of the curtain.

He brushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.

Heinwald raised his head off of the makeshift pillow he folded for himself and murmured, "Welcome, my love."

Curran dropped his own cover-up onto the grass and took two quick steps. He leaned down and kissed him. Heinwald tilted his head up into the kiss, raising his arms to hug him close.

One hand quickly slipped off his back and moved to stroke his abdomen. Curran had to break away to laugh.

Heinwald only smiled at him. "I'm merely taking advantage of my hands while I can."

Curran kissed him again, but said nothing in reply. In truth, having to bind Heinwald’s hands to the altar was his least favorite part of the ritual. Heinwald knew that, so he often tried to joke about it to lighten the blow, but his efforts were only partially successful.

He could hear a low hum coming from the people standing outside of their little slice of paradise. Heinwald murmured, “We need to start soon.”

He let out a loud, dramatic sigh, which made his oracle roll his eyes. Heinwald let go of him and lay completely against the altar, dropping his arms to his sides. A pair of metal cuffs, lined with sheepskin and inscribed with flowing runes, were bolted to the stone. 

Curran reluctantly cleared his throat. "Oracle, do you submit to my desires?"

"I do, my lord," Heinwald murmured. Curran clasped the shackles around Heinwald’s bony wrists.

Heinwald tilted his head up, and he quickly obliged him with a kiss. Then he settled himself in between his spread legs and surveyed the situation.

He was already slicked up with the same infused oil that Curran’s own body was shining with, except Heinwald was slicked both inside and out. 

"Oracle…" Curran stopped, licking his lips. Even though he's done this every month for the past (how long? he couldn't remember…) he still felt stupid every time they cast this spell together. Even moreso because he was terrible at reciting it properly. "...feel my will intruding your being."

"I lay open for you, mind and body," Heinwald replied. He however, winced when Curran slowly began to penetrate him, which made him frown. He would have to reprimand Heinwald's attendants for doing a sloppy job later. The ritual should always be an ecstatic experience for his love.

"I…" as Curran bottomed out, Heinwald swallowed heavily before starting the next phase of the ritual. "I am yours to use, my lord, the channel of your design."

"You will be rewarded for your...shellfish oystering." Heinwald shook his head at him, and Curran growled and tried again. "You will be rewarded for your selfless offering." Heinwald began to giggle, and Curran scowled down at him.

Then he began to fuck Heinwald.

Honestly, all told, he never particularly enjoyed undergoing this ritual with Heinwald. He was always painfully aware that other people were...not witnessing, but present, hearing Heinwald moan as he drove his cock into him over and over. He much preferred sex in the safety of their apartments, especially since during the ritual Heinwald had to be chained down to the altar and they were therefore limited in their positioning and acts. And finally, he hated the aftermath--the prophetic dreams that Heinwald received after the ritual often distressed him to the point where he would refuse all attempts at comfort from Curran.

The chanting was getting louder. People were starting to wail and scream in ecstasy. It disturbed Curran at first (...at first? When was at first?) but he’s since gotten better at ignoring everything that existed outside of their little bubble. He focused instead on Heinwald’s fucked out-expression, the way his eyes rolled back in his head with every thrust, the way his mouth hung open and the way his cheeks flushed with color.

He was so lucky that his oracle genuinely loved him.

He leaned in and kissed Heinwald’s cheek. “I’m close,” he whispered. 

Heinwald was silent for a little bit, apparently unable to register Curran’s words. But he swallowed and murmured, “I am...your willing...vessel, my lord."

That was Curran’s cue to stop holding back. He pushed in one last time and stayed there, spilling into his oracle, his destined one, his love. Heinwald came soon after him, making a mess of the little space available in between their bodies, and Curran leaned down and sealed his lips with a deep kiss.

They would sleep together, on the altar, for the night, using Curran’s covering as a blanket and Heinwald’s as a bed. Heinwald would dream, and in the morning the elders will come, and stand outside of their sanctuary, and listen to Heinwald describe his dream. They would leave to start deciphering the prophecy, and Curran and Heinwald would emerge from their cocoon. They would be permitted to bathe together, and then they would return to their apartment to rest and recover until their duties were needed once more.

(He would dream a strange dream that night.

A small girl with large, limid eyes. A blond-haired youth. A monster. 

But he wasn’t afraid, in his dream, for he had his partner by his side.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The background that I created for this prompt is that Curran and Heinwald were kidnapped and brainwashed by a cult that believes that Curran is a reincarnation of a god, and Heinwald is the reincarnation of the god's lover and the founder of the cult. I actually also ended up creating an outline for a longer fic with that idea, but who knows if it'll ever get written.
> 
> Curran is an only child.


	17. Sloppy Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to part 13.
> 
> If you're wondering why the total chapter number's gone down...it's because chapter 17 has been posted as a standalone fic!

He was facedown on the bed, ass in the air, getting fucked by the future Curran rather crudely. The present Curran was...somewhere else. Which was both mildly confusing, as the last few sessions had proven that Curran had a particular taste for watching him get fucked by the other, and a little upsetting, as he himself enjoyed having both of his lovers with him as much as possible. 

Curran came, rather quickly, and immediately pulled out. Heinwald felt him spreading his cheeks open, no doubt admiring his hole; he couldn’t do anything but let out a quiet whimper. As much as he resented Curran’s jokes about fucking him into docility, he had enough self-awareness to know that he did tend to get a bit more...compliant after sex.

His own cock was hard no doubt dripping precome onto the bed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to care--he rapidly got distracted by the disappearance of the heat that was radiating off of Curran’s body. He turned his head with another low whimper, squinting through eyes blurred with rising tears and uncorrected astigmatism, and saw the door closing after Curran, leaving him alone in the bedroom, still untouched and filled with come.

He pouted at empty air, then dropped his hips so he was lying comfortably on the bed. Was he supposed to go find Curran? If they expected him to move after getting fucked like that, they were insane. 

Fortunately for his lovers, right when he was truly beginning to feel sulky, the door opened again. Both of them stepped into the room, and Heinwald made a point of sniffling dramatically to show just how unhappy he was at being left alone.

"Two of us and we still can't keep him happy all the time," one of them sighed.

The other one was, Heinwald noticed, hard. He approached the bed, a glint in his eye. "He'll forget all about it once he gets a dick in him." He settled onto the bed behind Heinwald, gently spreading him open again to look at his hole. "Oh, Goddess, that's hot."

"If you think that's hot already, you're in for a real treat," Curran--the one who just finished inside of him--said, also coming over and sitting down. Heinwald began to slowly flush, mostly out of arousal. Here he was, already leaking come while he was waiting to get fucked again. Though he'd never admit it to Curran, he felt like a whore. And he loved it.

A finger slipped inside of him, and Heinwald shuddered. "Still warm. Kept a nice, big load inside of you just for me, didn't you?"

"He's probably loose and wet enough that you can go for it without lube," he heard the other Curran say. "Fucked him open well enough when it was my turn.”

The finger slid out. Heinwald felt the head of yet another cock nudge his hole, and he buried his face in the pillows, chest already heaving with excitement.

But his lovers still had more to say. "Even after you've just been dicked down by me, when offered a second round you're already gagging for more."

“You're just such a whore for me that you'd spread your legs anytime, anyplace." Gentle hands stroked through his hair then scritched him under his chin, like he was a cat; he purred and looked up from his pillow, eyes filled with love, and nodded.

"Hah! Never underestimate his honesty." His eyes closed and his mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he felt the head of Curran's cock once again pushing inside of him.

"Wish you could see yourself, baby. You’re leaking so much come out of you.” He could feel it, spilling down his leg every time Curran thrust into him, and he knew later when he staggered into the bathroom he’ll be able to see it, streaks of creamy white against purple skin.

“Well, you’ll get even more messy once I give you a fresh load.” Curran’s voice was smug and steady, even as his thrusts were hard enough to push Heinwald slowly across the bed, only held into place by the other Curran sitting by his head.

He had been watching Heinwald get fucked, but suddenly Heinwald felt the bed rise when he got off. He opened his eyes in surprise, watching blearily as he bent over to pull their toy chest out from under the bed. After a bit of digging, he straightened up with a grin, holding up a plug. He came back over and sat down once more, setting it on the bed next to Heinwald’s head. He stared at it, feeling heat rising to his cheeks, as Curran said smugly, “And afterwards, we’ll plug whatever’s left of both of us in you, so you can walk around the house and feel it sloshing around inside of you.”

“Maybe--fuck, hon, you’re so fucking good--we’ll leave it in you for the rest of the day, so when we fuck you again tonight we can fill you up some more, how about that?”

Getting filled up to the very brim with his lovers’ come…? 

Heinwald showed just how much he approved of that plan by coming onto the bed with a load moan.

Future Curran laughed, a bit meanly, and present Curran’s pace sped up, chasing down his own orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald and Curran would be terrifying serial killers.


	18. Werewolf

The second Heinwald walked into the meeting room, alone, covered in blood, everyone knew something was wrong.

“Is Curran--” Euden immediately started.

“Curran is currently being held down by a legion of children,” said Heinwald. Tension was obvious in his voice as he took a seat at the table. “Allow me to debrief quickly.

“The mission went smoothly, we were able to locate and destroy the contraband without issue, especially with the help of the White Sparrows who were sent to assist us. However, on our way back, we were ambushed by some hired thugs. While we rid ourselves of them efficiently, one got close to me, so Curran dispatched him quite excessively. The combination of blood, the battle, protectiveness, and the nearing moon has...well, he’s gone a bit feral, and it took him all of his willpower to resist his...primal nature.”

“You mean he spent the entire trip home sportin’ a stiffy,” Ranzal said bluntly.

“Ranzal!” Elisanne cried, scandalized.

Ranzal shrugged, grinning a grin that was more canine than human. He was also feeling the approaching moon, and he pitied his packmate for having to spend several hours resisting what was standing in front of him. “I mean, even to me he smells hella good, and I know full well he’s bonded to Curran.”

Heinwald’s eye twitched a little. “...Ah. Indeed. Now, if I may…?”

Euden nodded vigorously. “You shouldn’t have come debrief in the first place. Go take care of Curran.”

“Oh, he’ll be taking something, all right…” Heinwald heard as he got up from his chair and hurried out the door.

Curran was still where he left him, surrounded by young ones, who were doing an excellent job of tempering his desire to charge after Heinwald and jump on top of him. Still, even surrounded by libido-killing children, his eyes were still sharp as he looked up, alerted to Heinwald’s appearance more by scent than by sight. “Done?” he asked, voice low and gruff, even as his hands continued busily braiding Maribelle’s red hair.

Heinwald nodded, and said, “Thank you, children. You may release your prisoner into my custody.

Lily giggled as she climbed off of Curran’s thigh, and Pia copied her on his other leg. Lowen reluctantly stopped hugging his broad back, and Maribelle hopped to her feet, undoing all of Curran’s hard work with a flip of her hair. Curran got to his feet and instantly came over to Heinwald, with an air that definitely said that his tail would be wagging if he were in wolf form.

Heinwald reached up and petted his hair, and led him through the hallways back to their room.

The blood was drying itchy on his cheek as he opened the door. As soon as he had it open a crack, Curran pounced.

They fell through the door onto the floor. Curran growled as he climbed on top of Heinwald, pressing kisses to his neck and face. “I--I--”

Heinwald reached for him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry for making you wait. You can have me now.”

As soon as he had permission, Curran dove down and sealed his lips in a kiss. Heinwald blindly reached for his pants, unbuttoning the fly and pulling out his cock. Already, it was hard and leaking, and when Curran broke the kiss to bury his nose into his neck, he cooed at him, “You poor beast. You’ll be put out of your misery soon enough.”

“You smell so good,” Curran mumbled, voice muffled by Heinwald’s throat. He rutted against Heinwald’s leg, too overwhelmed with need to do much more than that. He was obviously going to be useless tonight.

It took a moment of negotiations, confounded by Curran’s reluctance to let Heinwald go or do anything productive, but eventually Heinwald managed to turn himself on his belly and push his own pants down. Curran was no longer rutting against his leg, but against the curve of his ass.

“Focus,” Heinwald scolded him. “You’ll feel better once you’re inside of me. And--”

“But I feel good now,” Curran whined. Heinwald shivered when he felt a tongue dragging along his throat. Then he remembered that he was still covered in blood.

“...! Curran, don’t lick the blood!” Heinwald shouted, trying to twist around to look at his lover, but Curran only grinned a wolfish grin at him.

“Heh. It’ll be fine, honey, I’m just cleaning you up.” Curran licked him again, this time on the cheek, and Heinwald squirmed underneath the attention.

“Well, cease. If you have any desire to penetrate me, you’ll have to be patient while I get some lubricant.”

“But I want you  _ now. _ ”

“Curran,” Heinwald said sharply, and Curran pouted but rolled off of him, sitting up on the floor. His hair was already a mess, and he still had blood staining his white shirt. His cock rose proudly out of his pants, and Heinwald wanted to lean over and lick it, take it in his mouth--

Perhaps later. It was foolish to assume Curran would be satisfied with only one round in this state.

The pot of oil was quickly retrieved from its place of honor in the nightstand. It was nearly empty, a testament to Curran’s increased sex drive as the moon waxed, and Heinwald frowned as he shook the last of the oil onto his hand. He returned to Curran as soon as possible, who had not moved from his spot on the floor, even to make his way over to the bed, and as Heinwald wrapped one hand around Curran’s cock, coating it with oil, he took a moment to mentally apologize to the poor rug.

Curran took his hand in his, taking some of the oil and spreading it over his fingers. “Hands and knees,” he growled. Knowing that he had already pushed Curran’s self-control enough, Heinwald was quick to obey, turning over onto his knees and elbows.

Three fingers were hastily shoved into his hole. They had sex last night, and Heinwald was still fairly loose from that experience, so Curran didn’t have to mess around too much with the physical act of stretching him out, only focusing on oiling up his hole. Soon, he pulled his fingers out. Heinwald braced himself against the floor, dropping his forehead on the rug, as he prepared himself for what he knew was coming next.

“Ah…!” Still, he gasped when he felt Curran’s thick cock splitting him open. Curran immediately stopped, his cock half-in-half out, frozen in place. Heinwald swallowed heavily and then said, encouragingly, “You may proceed, my love. I was only a little...surprised.”

He felt Curran nosing along the back of his neck. He reached back and entwined his fingers into his hair. “Use me however you need to. You’ve been so very patient.”

Curran let out a rumble that he felt more than heard and licked the back of his throat. Then his grip on Heinwald’s hips tightened...and he began to pound into him.

Heinwald shut his eyes, unable to prevent the cries falling out of his mouth at every thrust. His knees and arms rubbed against the rug with the force, and he knew distantly that he would wake up with serious rug burn the next morning. The low, rumbling growl Curran was making only added to the effect, the sensation of being fucked on his hands and knees, on the floor, like an animal. And he was getting fucked, along with the crudity it implied: there was nothing gentle, nothing loving; he was just a means to an end, a way to work out the tension in Curran’s bones.

As he thought that, the growling grew louder, almost directly in his ear, and Curran began to scent and lick him, burying his face into the crook of his neck. Heinwald smiled, though it perhaps looked like more of a grimace due to how tightly he had his teeth clenched as Curran continued to fuck into his hole. He could admit was wrong about the “nothing loving” part: no matter how bestially Curran behaved, no matter what form he took, he loved Heinwald.

And he loved Curran. He tightened his grip on his hair, and said it out loud.

Curran stopped. 

He whined, low in his throat, and an arm wrapped around Heinwald’s chest, pulling him close. His cock spasmed inside of him, spilling warm come. The arm around his chest drifted lower, and Curran’s hand wrapped around his cock, tugging it until he also came. A wave of exhaustion quickly overcame him, and he was unable to hold himself up anymore. He collapsed onto the floor with a great sigh, feeling Curran’s warm coming down on top of him, pressing him down.

Curran’s cock was softer, but it still remained semi-hard inside of him. He shut his eyes, feeling Curran starting to nip and bite at his neck, marking him up, and sighed, “I’ll give you oral sex for the next round.” His rear end needed the break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The weres of the Halidom formed a pack out of necessity, to prevent fighting over shared territories and stuff.


	19. Stuck in a wall

Curran’s approach sounded a bit like this: quiet footsteps, a pause, and then a loud burst of laughter.

Heinwald scowled at the wall in front of him. His upper half was trapped in the space between the inner wall and the outer wall of the room. He kicked his legs out and called, “Stop laughing!”

Curran did, but only long enough to wheeze out, “Are you fucking serious?”

Heinwald braced his hands against the...inner side of the outer wall and tried, yet again, to wiggle his way out. “Get me out of here, please,” he grumbled, not nearly as amused.

“How’d you even get stuck like that, honey? And are you okay back there?” Curran’s amusement had faded somewhat, replaced by concern and...was that…?

“I wanted to rescue this book,” Heinwald mumbled. The book in question was clutched in his hand. “The hole looked large enough, so I ducked through, but then I needed my arms to reach for the book and brace myself, and now I am unable to return.” Then he added, quickly trying to alleviate any concerns, “I’m physically fine. I’m not in danger of being crushed; it’s simply too small for my shoulders or waist to fit through without assistance.”

“That’s good to hear.” The concern was gone. Now it was replaced entirely by that unknown yet known quantity. Heinwald cocked his head, thinking hard…

“...Are you seriously aroused by this situation?” He tried to sound annoyed, but it didn’t come out that way.

“You should see yourself from behind, honey.” A broad hand shamelessly groped his backside briefly, then disappeared. “I’m gonna go get my axe. We’ll--”

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

The positive spin on the situation is that Curran could not see the way his face was burning. “Before you free me...don’t I need to...repay you?”

“Oh. Ohhh.” In his mind’s eye, he could see Curran’s sly grin. “Well, you can’t hand me any money ...perhaps I can just extract my payment out of what I’ve got here. Now, wait here.” 

Wait, what.

“Curran--!” But his footsteps were already fading in the distance. Heinwald gritted his teeth, wiggling about some more in his trap. Truly, it wasn’t so uncomfortable; in fact, he imagined if he got proper leverage, managed to get one arm through the hole, he could slide out if he needed to. If he  _ wanted _ to.

He was just starting to get anxious when he heard footsteps again. He turned his head and saw nothing but wooden wall. “Curran?” he called, despite knowing that there was no one else in the house but him and his lover.

Curran didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed his pants and yanked them down unceremoniously.

“Oh!” His cry of surprise echoed in the small space. And he cried out again when two fingers pushed into his hole, pumping in and out no more than three times before they withdrew.

Instead of three fingers against his hole next, he felt the familiar fat head of a cock bullying its way into his tight hole. His knees went weak as he attempted to spread his legs even wider, readying himself to accommodate Curran’s bulk; but without so much as a by-your-leave he thrust in. Hard.

“Ah!” Without giving him any time at all to adjust to the sensation of a foreign object inside of him, Curran pulled out and thrust back in, setting a brutal pace from the get-go. Heinwald hung his head, fingernails digging into the old wood, and closed his eyes. “Uhng! Curran...!”

Curran said nothing in reply. Usually he would be keeping up a steady stream of commentary, dirty talk and sweet nothings alike, but he was near-silent except for his grunts of extersion he let out with every thrust into Heinwald's tight body. As if he was truly nothing more than a...a sex toy, an object to be used for his owner's pleasure. 

Oh, how he loved being used by his lover. His cock was getting visibly hard from the thought of being nothing more than a warm hole in the wall to fuck. His heart was racing, with excitement and humiliation and nervousness. His cries echoed in the small space he was trapped in. His nails dug into the walls as he braced himself against Curran’s thrusts, even though there was nowhere for him to go, the book that caused him to enter this predicament abandoned on the ground again at the first thrust.

Like being blindfolded, he had nothing to distract him from paying attention to the way he could feel every inch of Curran’s cock sliding into his hole, to the way the head of his cock nudged up against his prostate at this angle and sent jolts of pleasure up his spine, to the way the head of his cock tugged at the rim of his hole when he pulled out almost all the way. At the warm rush he could feel when Curran paused, buried flush against him, and came into his body.

He pulled out and stayed quiet for a bit, as Heinwald panted, so close to the edge, he still hadn’t come, he hoped Curran would reach around and just touch him, just a bit…

“Cum dump. Cock whore.” Curran spanked him once. “But still, a pretty good fuck considering it was free.”

Heinwald went limp as he came.

He only allowed himself a moment to rest before he shoved his arm back through the hole. With the careful help of Curran, he managed to free himself, and collapsed on the floor, ignoring the fact that he was sitting in a pool of his own come with Curran’s come leaking out of him. He just let the feeling of being perfectly used and satisfied wash over him.

Curran sat down next to him. Both of them were still mostly dressed, and in fact Curran hadn’t even pulled his pants down. He had simply opened up his fly and pulled out his cock, and now he tucked it back in, looking presentable enough to walk out of the room and speak to a client. “I think you forgot your book,” he chuckled as he buttoned back up his fly.

Heinwald felt an auxiliary wave of lust wash over him. He was feeling so addled, yet after fucking him like that Curran looked as casual as you’d please. But still, he gathered himself enough to cast him a wicked smile. “I have another copy. I think we should leave that back there for...future inspiration.”

“Liked it that much, huh?” Curran grinned at him. “Slut.”

Heinwald hummed, but didn’t deny it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald doesn't actually mind children that much, it's just that children mind him.


	20. Monster

“So, you’re telling me that your human feet are so inefficient that you recruit other feet to help you move long distance?”

Heinwald phrased it as a genuine question, complete with a curious quirk of a brow, but his tail slapped against the surface of the water as if he were applauding his own cleverness. Curran rolled his eyes, leaning back on his hands, feeling the soft sand press against his palms. “I never thought about it like that, but I guess you’re right.”

“I often am.” Heinwald rolled over, his long tail, a mosaic of black and purple scales, catching the light of the sun. Curran watched the muscles ripple underneath, marvelling at the strength that must be contained within. Heinwald once told him that some of his people were able to kill meter-long fish with one blow of their tail and cross the length of the ocean within mere days.

His eyes journeyed downwards, to the fin capping the end of Heinwald’s tail, a deep purple with greenish-gold markings. Instead of having a tail like a typical fish, Heinwald’s tail looked more like an eel’s, with long fins positioned on either side of his...tail.

After he met Heinwald, he started visiting the library much more often. Heinwald had a thirst for terrestrial knowledge and a surprising ability to read, and while he had been grabbing books for him he had checked out some books on fish, figuring it was the closest he could get to learning about merfolk. He had learned words like  _ caudal, anal, pectoral. _ He couldn’t quite figure out how to attach the words he learned to Heinwald’s anatomy, but he was doing his best.

Heinwald’s tail slapped against the water again, and he looked over his shoulder at Curran. “Once you have finished enjoying the sunset,” he said, “Can we have sex?”

Caught off guard, Curran could do nothing but laugh. “You know, for someone who lives underwater, you’re awfully thirsty.”

Heinwald pouted. “I don’t know what you mean, but I know you’re making fun of me.”

That was...another thing that happened. Last time Curran had visited him, Heinwald had accepted his books and told him imperiously, “I have made up my mind. I will accept your courtship.”

It turned out that Heinwald had been interpreting his library book deliveries as courtship gifts. After that was cleared up, and both of them had finally figured out that their interest was mutual...well. 

Curran had had sex with a mermaid.

And now that mermaid was his boyfriend.

And now said boyfriend was giving him bedroom eyes.

He laughed again, and leaned forward to ruffle Heinwald’s hair. “Sure. Here? Or in the water?”

Before he finished his second question, Heinwald had nodded eagerly, and flipped over once more to start dragging himself up the beach. He was so elegant, with his long tail and his gorgeous hair and his slender body, so it was almost hilarious watching him clumsily drag himself up away from the water. Did it make him a bad boyfriend, that he didn’t make a move to help? Probably.

But eventually Heinwald flopped down next to him. His tail thumped against the sand and his little hidden slit was beginning to reveal itself--a sign of arousal, Heinwald had told him, equivalent of the boner Curran was starting to develop himself.

Heinwald eagerly reached for the button on Curran’s pants, but he gently pushed his hand away. Last time, Heinwald had ruined his pants by trying to figure out how to open the fly, hindered by his sharp nails and his befuddlement. This time, Curran didn’t even give him a chance, electing to stand up and take off his pants and shirt by himself.

When his cock came into view, Heinwald cooed happily. As soon as Curran had sat back down on the sand Heinwald was reaching for it eagerly, wrapping his hand around it. “Oh, how I’ve been longing for your company,” he purred.

“The first thing you said to me today was ‘why have the humans been scraping bird poop off the cliffs,’” Curran said flatly.

Heinwald shot him a scornful look. “I did not miss  _ your _ company. I missed the company of your penis.”

“Gee, thanks,” Curran muttered.

“I penetrated myself.” Heinwald abruptly changed the subject. He smirked at whatever stupid expression Curran was making. “I fingered myself, and counted down the days until I could see you and experience you inside of me again.”

Well, he couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t jerk off thinking about Heinwald at night. Or, more accurately, while taking a bath. “Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Curran assured him as he rolled over, positioning himself on top of Heinwald. 

He leaned down and kissed him first. He tasted like seawater, and he ran his tongue along his sharp little teeth as Heinwald made a happy little burble in his throat, bringing his arms up to wrap around his neck. He could feel Heinwald’s slit fluttering against his thigh, ready and willing.

He drew back from the kiss, and Heinwald dropped his head back onto the sands, a besotted smile upon his face. Curran glanced down and carefully guided two fingers into Heinwald’s slit, still a little worried about accidentally hurting him. It felt so soft and delicate around his fingers, and he had spent ages the night before filing any ragged edges of his nails down, paranoid about tearing the delicate flesh within.

When he withdrew his fingers, they were so wet with whatever slick Heinwald naturally produced that he was able to spread it around his own cock. He reached back in for some more and murmured, “You’re so wet, baby, you’re dripping.”

Heinwald said flatly, “I’m a mermaid, Curran. I live in the water.”

“I mean down here, you fucking imbecile,” Curran said, rolling his eyes so hard it hurt. Heinwald’s giggling abruptly cut off when Curran curled his fingers, pressing them against the walls of his entrance. He groaned and Curran paused, trying to gauge if it was a good noise or a bad one. But when he uncurled his fingers, Heinwald’s eyes snapped open and he demanded, 

“Do that again.”

“Do what?” asked Curran, unable to resist an opportunity to tease.

Heinwald downright  _ hissed _ at him.

“Okay! Yikes, geez.” Curran crooked his fingers again. When he made a gentle stroking motion, all hints of anger dropped from Heinwald’s face and he went lax, gasping with pleasure. Every time he pet the soft walls, Heinwald reacted like he was getting electrocuted, writhing underneath him. 

He asked softly, “Is this how you touched yourself?”

Heinwald shook his head, eyes sliding closed. 

Curran smiled down at him. “Guess I’m teaching you new things about your body.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Heinwald’s cool cheek. “You should learn how to make yourself react like that, baby. So I can watch you pleasure yourself.”

He watched with amusement as color rose to Heinwald’s cheeks. He nodded again, then swallowed twice. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Curran pointed out. He was still buried knuckles-deep inside him, after all, and he gave him another pointed stroke, making Heinwald’s tail jerk and slap against his leg.

Heinwald opened his eyes again and scowled. “I meant I want your penis. Inside of me. Right now, please.”

“Bossy,” he mumbled, but pulled his fingers out. His cock was now completely hard against Heinwald’s tail, and when he sat up, he noticed Heinwald’s eyes immediately zeroing in on it. He gave his boyfriend a sly grin as he wrapped the hand he had inside of him around his own cock, giving it a few tugs, coating it in slick.

He leaned back over, planting his hands on either side of Heinwald’s torso. Heinwald’s hand immediately wound around his wrist, holding on, as Curran lined his cock up with the now-gaping slit, wide open for him.

Heinwald was so--so wet and soft, on the inside. His slit sucked at his cock, and he was powerless to resist, pushing himself inside that welcoming heat. 

His flesh parted so easily for the head of his cock, and he felt almost bad about introducing something so hard and rough and inelegant into his delicate hole. He had sucked Heinwald’s dick the last time, and even though Heinwald was obviously turned on, had orgasmed into his mouth, it never quite hardened all the way, retaining a soft exterior surface. But despite the differences in mermaid and human anatomy, Heinwald was clearly enjoying himself with his entirely human dick.

His hand tightened around Curran’s wrist with every inch that entered his body. His tail fluttered weakly, and his face was already screwed up with pleasure. And when Curran bottomed out, Heinwald reached up with his free hand, touching his chin, his cheek, his jaw.

And then he breathed out, “Move.”

Unable to speak, Curran only nodded.

Pulling out was somehow even better than pushing in. Heinwald’s slit tensed around his cock, and the sucking sensation grew stronger, as if he was unconsciously trying to prevent him from leaving. It hugged Curran’s cock, and he only managed to pull out about halfway before the allure of a tight, warm hole to fuck was too strong to resist and he thrust back in, a tad bit harder than he intended. Heinwald seized, but when Curran paused, he barked, “A-again!”

Equipped with new directions, Curran pulled out again. This time, by pulling out faster, he was able to get his cock out until nothing but the head remained. He stayed there, teetering on the edge, as Heinwald clearly braced himself. Then he began to properly fuck Heinwald.

For a while, he couldn’t look at Heinwald’s face in fear of coming far too early. He focused instead on the slide of his cock in and out of Heinwald, the heft of Heinwald’s tail tensing and relaxing in between his legs, the way his nails dug into his arm as he thrashed about underneath it. When he thought he had a good enough handle on himself, he looked.

Heinwald had such a fucked-out look on his face. Like something out of a naughty picture--his eyes were glazed over and unfocused, his tongue was visible, limp in his slack mouth, with sand already scattered through his long hair. He was making a low warbling noise, that pitched up and down in time with Curran’s thrusts.

He leaned down to kiss his cheekbone. “You’re-- _ damn _ gorgeous.”

Heinwald cooed at him, returning the kiss.

His back and legs were just starting to burn pleasantly with the exertion when Heinwald went stiff all over underneath him. He threw his head back and moaned, and when Curran pulled out, only just slowing down his pace, a fresh wave of slick followed his cock out as Heinwald orgasmed, the edges of his slit a-flutter. Curran waited there, just the head of his dick still inside, until Heinwald stopped spasming about. Then he gently pushed his cock back inside and finally let himself come. He’s been on edge basically ever since he first got his cock inside of Heinwald, and it was such a sweet relief to finally be able to spill his load.

He pulled out and collapsed onto the sand beside Heinwald. They both lay there, panting, riding out the aftereffects of orgasm. When Curran finally found the strength,he lifted up his head up again, eager to check out the sight he knew he would see.

Sure enough, Heinwald’s slit was still visible, gaping open and closed, gently weeping a combination of Curran’s creamy cum and his own slick. Though he hesitated, not wanting to cause any oversensitivity, he still rolled over onto his side so he could gently prod his fingers against his slit, stirring up their combined fluids. Heinwald groaned, a shiver running up his tail, but there was nary even a hint of pain on his face.

When Curran pulled his fingers out, Heinwald opened one bleary eye. "Why?" he whined.

Curran chuckled. "Let's get you into the water and clean you up."

"I want you to touch me more," Heinwald complained.

"I said…" Curran leaned over to loom over him, bracing himself with one hand on the sand and one hand resting on his tail, fingers teasingly close to his slit. "...let's get you into the water. So I can clean you up...inside and out."

"Ohhhh." Now he was all smiles. "Yes, please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random headcanon: [Heinwald is afraid of Goose ](https://twitter.com/cmvl_says_NO/status/1188641834307731456?s=19)


	21. Costumes

“What’s my diagnosis, doc?” Curran joked, looking at Heinwald in the reflection of the mirror.

Heinwald finished wrapping his arm in cloth bandages and took a step back, nodding approvingly. “I’m afraid you have a bad case of the ‘deads,’ good patient.”

Curran laughed, and Heinwald chuckled along.

Maybe “bloody physician and dead patient” was a little morbid for a couple’s costume, but honestly, Curran wasn’t complaining due to how hot Heinwald looked. He was in a form-fitting long jacket, with a panel lined with visible snaps on the front, that covered him from his neck to his calves. It was in white, so to better display the artful blood splatters they had spent a gleeful afternoon painting on.

Heinwald’s hand trailed up his arm, squeezing his bicep appreciatively. Curran was shirtless, with his torso wrapped gently in cloth bandages and blood splattered all over them and his white pants, mostly concentrated around the knife handle they had attached just over his heart, so it looked like he had been stabbed. Heinwald had also applied a bloodied cotton pad to his forehead, over his scar, as well as the aforementioned strategic bandages wrapped around his forearm on one side and his bicep on the other.

Once Heinwald released his arm, he used the same one to wrap around Heinwald’s waist and draw him closer. He pressed a kiss to his temple and said, “We look hot, baby.”

Heinwald chuckled. “We do look rather good together.” Then his grin grew wider. “What’s the line they say on Halloween?”

“Oh, come on, you totally know it, why are you asking?” Curran complained. But then he wavered--there was a small possibility Heinwald truly had no idea. It wouldn’t hurt to say it, after all. “Trick or treat.”

“You’ll get both later.”

“Wait, what?” But Heinwald was already walking out the door, calling over his shoulder, 

“Come along, Curran! We don’t want to be late!”

Confused, but also a little excited, Curran followed along.

***

At around eleven, Heinwald began to subtly hint that perhaps they should return to their rooms a bit early.

“We should retire, Curran," he said bluntly.

Curran blinked at him. “Can I...finish my pumpkin?”

“Very well,” Heinwald sighed. “But make it fast.”

So Curran chugged the rest of his drink--some sort of pumpkin punch with a lot of alcohol, served in a hollowed-out pumpkin--and followed his boyfriend back to their room.

Halfway there, he realized that perhaps he should have asked a few more questions before following Heinwald out from the party blindly, such as  _ why are we leaving early _ or  _ I lost the knife that was in my chest, do you know where it went _ .

Inside their room, Heinwald closed and locked the door. Curran raised his eyebrow at the firm  _ click _ . “Got some plans for me tonight, baby?”

Heinwald smirked at him. “In the spirit of the holiday, I have a trick and a treat for you. Go sit down.”

Curran eagerly went.

As soon as he was sitting on the bed, Heinwald began to slowly unbutton the jacket he was wearing. He said conversationally, “The trick is that I have something else on underneath my costume. And the treat is…” He dropped the jacket on the ground.

Curran’s jaw fell open.

Underneath the physician’s costume, Heinwald was wearing a heavily modified nurse’s outfit.

He had cut away all of the excess fabric around the legs, leaving only a very short miniskirt that barely reached halfway down the thighs at the sides. Viewing it from the front made it even shorter, given that the hemline rose up into a point in the center, with the empty space filled by a lace panel. When he pulled off the heavy leather gloves, he had much more delicate white ones on underneath. And what Curran had mistaken for pants underneath his jacket turned out to actually be white stockings that ended up above the knee.

From the pocket of his Halloween costume--the physician one, not the slutty nurse outfit he was currently wearing--Heinwald pulled out a tiny blue headpiece, which he perched on his head, before giving a slow twirl. “Opinions?”

“Oh, baby,” Curran groaned, “is this for me?"

Heinwald smirked at him and gestured at himself. "Take a look at the evidence."

"Do I get a sexy doctor roleplay to go along with it?" he asked hopefully. Heinwald shrugged.

"If you would like."

"We-ll, then.” His dick was creasing his white pants, making quite an obvious tent. He leaned back on his hands, putting himself on display just a little bit, and wolf-whistled. “Hellooo, nurse!"

“Hello, patient...Curran, was it?” Heinwald purred.

“I need some…” he waggled his eyebrows, “...healing.” This was ridiculous, and Heinwald was starting to giggle, but it was  _ fun _ . 

“Well...I must warn you. I have a very...unorthodox method of healing,” Heinwald replied. He sauntered on closer “Now, tell me, where does it hurt?”

Curran tapped his cheek. “Right here, doc. Got punched in the face.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Heinwald leaned over and kissed him.

“It also hurts on my neck. Whiplash, you know, from getting hit.”

“Mmm, a nasty condition.” Heinwald crawled onto his lap, kissing his neck. Curran tilted his head up, letting Heinwald get in there and suck a hickey onto his skin.

“Feels better already, doc.”

Heinwald leaned back, looking at his handiwork in satisfaction. “Where else does it hurt?”

“You’re sitting on it, doc, and it’s not helping my injury just one bit.”

“Oh, dear, my apologies.” Heinwald slid off his lap and onto the floor. He popped open Curran’s pants and pulled out Curran’s already erect dick, then kissed the head of it. He moved south, licking a long strip up the underside before declaring, “My, my. I think you need some...specialized treatment.”

“ _ Please _ .”

Despite wearing a skimpy little outfit so skintight Curran could almost see the stich lines through the thin fabric, somehow Heinwald was able to reach up underneath his own skirt and magic out a pair of panties that quickly hit the floor. He stepped out of them and climbed once more onto Curran’s lap, straddling his cock.

“Don’t you need something?” Curran couldn’t help but ask. He had a big dick, Heinwald had a tight ass...

“Oh, a doctor is always ready...for the longest, hardest procedures.” Somehow, some way, Heinwald managed to say that with a straight face.

Until Curran started to laugh. Heinwald did his best to maintain his composure, but soon enough, he cracked too, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against Curran’s shoulder. Even as half-laughs half-sobs wracked his body, Curran wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, just to have something to hold onto as he laughed and laughed.

Finally, he had recovered barely enough to try and wheeze out, “D-damn, darling, that was no doubt the worst fucking thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Heinwald leaned back, reaching up with a glove-covered wrist to dab at his eyes. “Worse than, ‘that’s excrement from a dead body?’”

Curran rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt. “Can you not remind me of that when you’re dressed as a slutty doctor?

“I’m just saying, you ought to reevaluate your stance on the ‘worst’--”

“Shut the fuck up.” Curran rolled his eyes again and grumbled, “I definitely need some healing after that fucking joke.”

“Don’t worry,” Heinwald purred, grinding his ass down on Curran’s cock, “I’ll make sure you feel all better by the end of tonight…”

And Curran grinned up at him as he slipped down over his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curran's pet names for Heinwald are "honey/hon," "baby/babe," or anything that emphasizes how beautiful he finds him--"gorgeous," "beautiful."


	22. Mirror Sex

“You’re gorgeous,” Curran murmured into his ear. 

Heinwald turned his head to the side, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re biased.”

“The evidence is right in front of you." Curran pressed a kiss to his cheek and tilted his chin at the mirror in front of them.

Heinwald still didn’t look. He knew what he would see: the gilded backdrop of the ballroom reflected in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The bench they stole from the organ that stood, silent and disapproving, in the corner. Curran, sitting on the bench, his blue eyes burning a hole through the mirror. Himself, sitting in his lap, with Curran’s arms hooked underneath his knees, holding his legs up and apart.

“Look at yourself, baby,” Curran continued. “Your little hole looks so cute and innocent, but you and I both know that it’s just waiting for a thick cock to come and spread it open.”

He hesitated. But Curran’s cock was pressing so insistently against him, and no matter how much he squirmed Curran had a firm grip on him, and he was quick to readjust to prevent Heinwald from managing to push himself onto the cock barely teasing his hole. Finally, he chanced a glance at the mirror. 

He focused first on Curran, locking eyes with him in the mirror. His lover’s hair, which would usually be described as “carefree” on the best of days, was already a mess from where Heinwald had been gripping it earlier in lieu of anything else to brace himself with. He had a fiendish smirk on his face, and Heinwald so dearly wanted to wipe it off.

He shifted his gaze downwards, trying to ignore the red flush he could see across the part of his chest that was smooth white instead of purple, trying to ignore how exposed he was, with his legs propped up and on full display. Curran’s cock, long and thick, was positioned right in between his legs, and his eyes followed the length up to the tip until he was forced to contend with his own hole, shiny with slick, already puffy after the fingering Curran had treated him with. But he was distracted from his own self-deprecation by the sharp size contrast between the fat, dripping head and the tight hole, and instead of feeling bashful he concentrated on the way his belly was twisting pleasantly with anticipation.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Curran murmured. “I’ll give you what you need, but you have to keep watching, okay? I want you to see what I see whenever I slide my dick into you.”

Heinwald nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the way his own tongue darted out to dampen his bottom lip. Involuntarily, he tightened the grip he had on Curran’s biceps, situated on either side of him.

He swallowed heavily as Curran carefully guided his cock into him. He wanted to close his eyes, to lose himself to the pleasure as his hole parted to let Curran in, but he knew that the second he did Curran would notice and stop, refusing to go any further until he opened his eyes again. So he watched as his hole swallowed Curran up, inch by inch, stretched out tight around his thick cock.

He didn’t need to tear his gaze away from the sight he was seeing to be able to know what expression Curran was making: his eyes would be falling closed, his mouth falling open, as he reveled in the bliss of that first push into Heinwald’s willing body.

Eventually, Curran was buried in him up to the root, and he stared at himself, stretched so wide after taking Curran’s whole cock into himself. He clenched down, feeling the size, and managed to draw a labored groan out of Curran.

“Fuck, baby, you need to warn me when you do that.”

“M-my apologies,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, which turned into more of a ragged gasp, and said, “I…”

Curran pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Are you ready?"

Heinwald nodded. Curran began to pull him up and off. His cock reappeared, just as slowly as it went into him, and by the time the head was tugging at his rim he was breathless with lust from the sight of it.

Curran fucked him slowly, almost teasing, but while Heinwald would normally be demanding more right now he had no complaints. If he was forced to watch while Curran fucked him as brutally as he liked, he wouldn't last long. The feeling of Curran's cock sliding in and out of him combined with the delicious sight was already too much. He wondered how Curran could stand it, watching his cock disappear into his tight body like a magic trick.

"Look at yourself, baby."

Heinwald squirmed as Curran's cock paused. He clenched down again, trying to encourage motion. "I am!" he whined, watching the way his hole tightened around Curran's cruelly still cock.

"Look at your face while I fuck you. Look at how slutty you are."

Heinwald let out a wordless whimper. But he was so close…

His face was flushed bright red. His mouth was limp, partially open as he gasped for air. His eyes were half-closed, with the barest shine of tears. He looked like a  _ whore. _

Curran started fucking up into him, harder and faster, thrusting up into his hole. Heinwald watched his own eyes slide partially closed, his own mouth hanging open, bouncing in Curran's lap over and over.

Then his eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he came, gasping and jerking in Curran’s grip. His lover continued to fuck him through his orgasm, until he stopped, buried inside of him, to come.

Even before Curran spoke, Heinwald knew what was coming next.

“One last time, honey. Look at your hole.”

Heinwald blinked away his blurred vision. Then he glanced down, past his heaving, flushed chest, past his belly decorated with white, down to his hole, still stretched open around Curran’s cock.

Curran carefully pulled out of him. The second that head popped, a wave of his come spilled out of his gaping hole, leaking out and dripping onto the chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald doesn't like to look at himself in the mirror--not necessarily because he thinks he's ugly, but he gets this funny little feeling that the person in the mirror is not completely him...
> 
> (because of his eldritch side)


	23. Size Kink

“Where do you keep it?”

Curran’s lopsided grin faded and he blinked. “...What?”

“Where do you keep it?” Heinwald repeated himself, and gestured at the cock he was holding in his hand. “It’s so big, but your pants are so form-fitting…”

Curran still looked confused, but Heinwald was genuinely curious. He had one hand wrapped around Curran’s cock. It used to be completely hard; it had deflated somewhat after he had asked his burning question, so he gave it a few tugs, admiring the weight of it in his hands, the way it was long enough that even when he wrapped both of his hands around the shaft the head still peeked out. Granted, he had slim hands, but still. The principle of the matter stood.

“Um, in my pants? I don’t know…” Curran was starting to redden, and Heinwald laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek as an apology for flustering him so.

“Pardon me, but I find myself quite...taken by your size.” It was fascinating, honestly, how the thick shaft could enter his body. The thickness of it is what made Heinwald enjoy taking it without thorough preparation: he loved feeling it stretch him open, opening him up. He loved the twinge of pain that accompanied the event of putting something a bit too big into a hole a bit too small, serving as a reminder just how large his lover’s cock was. And oh, that wasn’t even beginning to touch on the length...

“Yeah? You like big dicks? Maybe you’re a bit of a size queen.” Curran was beginning to sound a little breathless, likely as a result of Heinwald increasing the pace with which he was jerking his cock.

“I suppose I am distantly related to the former King Alberius,” Heinwald replied, focusing on squeezing the shaft in his hands, “but I do not believe you are referring to the royal blood when you refer to me as a ‘size queen.’” 

“No shit,” Curran said, rolling his eyes. “I’m talking about how you like getting split open on a nice, thick cock, so long you can almost taste it.”

Oh, Curran was so good at dirty talk. “Tell me more,” Heinwald demanded, starting to feel a little breathless himself. 

“You also like choking on it, don’t you? You love deepthroating me, I know, and you do such a good job of it.” Heinwald gave a jerky nod, and Curran grinned. “That’s the reason why I do the thing where I touch your cheek and your throat when you’re blowing me. It’s because I’m so big I can fucking feel me in your throat, through your cheek. I can feel it stuffing your mouth full, muffling the slutty noises you make.”

“I…” Heinwald’s face was beginning to heat up. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say--it wasn’t as if he could refute what Curran was saying, that would be a bald-faced like--but before he could figure out where his sentence was going, Curran continued,

“For someone who loves how big I am, you’re awfully tight. It always takes so much effort to loosen you up enough, and let me tell you, when I get inside of you, it feels so good around my cock.” As he spoke, Heinwald migrated so he was sitting properly on Curran’s lap. Curran reached for his behind and pressed the pad of his middle finger against his hole, as if trying to prove his point. And though Heinwald was already in prime position, Curran wasn’t quite done with his dirty talk.

“You  _ are _ a size queen, honey. You’re such a slut for a big, thick cock that’s pointed at any of your holes. That’s probably the reason why you love walking around with plugs in your hole, because you love being stuffed so damn much you don’t care what’s inside of you.”

Thank goodness Curran had already prepared him, fingering his hole while he writhed and clung to the pillows. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of his filthy words without coming. Trying not to show his weakness on his face, Heinwald tossed his hair and said silkily, “My, you’re slinging quite the accusations today, inquisitor. Why don’t you prove your hypothesis?”

“Oh? You really want evidence?” Curran grinned up at him. His hands squeezed the globes of his ass, shifting him about in his lap, lifting him up in the air. “All right, all right, I’ll give you some fucking evidence.”

Heinwald’s arms tightened around his neck as Curran lowered him onto his cock. He gasped and bit down on his lower lip as he felt the head of a cock spreading him open, stretching out his hole. The rest of the cock followed, filling him up inch by inch. Pleasure was already building in the pit of his belly as he settled onto Curran’s cock, seated fully on top of it, the whole length burrowed inside of him. 

It was such a delight to consider...him and Curran, joined in the most intimate way possible, the head of his cock deep inside of his hole...he clenched down, feeling every inch of Curran’s long cock.

Curran let out a groan. “Yeah...you’re so damn tight. How do I feel?”

It took Heinwald a second to find any words to describe the feeling. In the end, all he managed to get out was, “It’s...so big...guh…”

Curran laughed. It rumbled out of his chest and through every inch of his body, transmitted to Heinwald’s own in every place he was pressed up against him, and he couldn’t help but shiver in pleasure at the sound. 

Then Curran leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet. He murmured, “I know it’s big, honey...but you take it so well for me. You’ve got the whole thing in you right now…”

Heinwald nodded, moaning as Curran lifted him up and completely off his cock, letting him feel the emptiness left behind. He clenched down again, this time on a gaping feeling. He knew from experience that his hole will still be stretched this wide the next morning, just from the force of Curran’s cock inside of him. Then that cock was entering him again, filling him back up, and he gasped, “Haaah...you’re...you’re so big...you fill me up…!”

“And you love it. Why’s that?”

Such an innocent question, with such a simple answer. Heinwald closed his eyes, as Curran grinded his hips, pressing his dick deeper into him, and then slowly began to pull back. He tried to grasp the words floating around his head, knocked loose by the thick dick pulling out of his ass. “B-because…”

“Say it, baby,” Curran growled, low and domineering. “What are you?”

“I-I’m a...I’m a size queen!”  Curran pulled out and thrust his cock  _ hard _ into his hole, and Heinwald screamed to the heavens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curran can't carry a loon and has two left sheets, but he can play guitar.


	24. Demon

Curran woke up to a pressure on his chest.

Heinwald was lying flat on top of his body like some sort of overgrown cat. His chin was pressed painfully into his sternum. His red eyes blinked open and closed, slowly. His tail waved lazily in the air behind him. He was a vision, a beauty, a blessing from the Goddess.

Curran groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. “Five more minutes.”

Heinwald’s tail flicked in the air. “I’m hungry.”

“Goddess, can’t it fucking wait?” Curran grumbled. But he was already uncovering his eyes and moving his hand down to grope Heinwald’s ass through his sleepwear.

Heinwald only purred. He sat up in Curran’s lap, straddling his waist. “It was very unfair of you to return last night and not feed me before going to bed,” he said severely.

“Cut me some fucking slack,” Curran grumbled, propping himself up first on his elbows then on his hands.

Usually it was easy to keep his succubus boyfriend well-fed. Heinwald was a gorgeous creature, seemingly tailored for his personal delight. But he had been gone on a mission for a week, and he had returned late at night last night, and Heinwald had looked so adorable curled up on the bed, holding onto his own tail like a teddy bear, and he had been so tired that he had just crawled into bed and fell asleep without waking Heinwald up to feed him.

He knew he should’ve at least let Heinwald suck him off. Now he was awake again, at...what, five in the morning? so he could fuck his boyfriend and replenish his energy stores.

He let out a great big heaving yawn. Heinwald cocked his head, like a cat, his tail whipping back and forth eagerly.

“You want my cock?” Curran mumbled. Even half-asleep, he knew what Heinwald liked to hear. “Then turn over. Hands and knees.”

Heinwald purred again. He climbed off of Curran’s lap, letting him prop himself upright, and moving until he was on his hands and knees on the bed. Already, his forked tail was flicking to the side, raising itself up, putting his little hole on display. It was, to Curran’s untrained eye, tighter then it normally was, and he raised a brow as he leaned over to grab the lube. “Did you not touch yourself while I was away?”

Heinwald shook his head. “You said you’d only be gone for three days. So I waited. And I figured you’d be coming back tomorrow, so I waited one more day. I’ve waited for this moment for a  _ week. _ ”

“Not my fucking fault, send your complaints to the Empire,” Curran grumbled. He wrapped an oiled hand around his cock, stroking himself haphazardly. With Heinwald’s cute hole hovering right in front of him, he was feeling much more awake.

“Perhaps I will.” 

Curran groaned, just knowing that he’ll catch Heinwald with a letter addressed to the enemy castle complaining about how their nefarious activities were interfering with his sex life.

“Don’t,” he grumbled, shoving a lubed finger into Heinwald’s hole. He got a pleased little gasp in reply. Grinning to himself, he crooked the finger, searching for that sweet spot inside him that’ll—

“A-aah!” Yep. There it was. 

He spent some time playing with it, enjoying the sight of his uptight boyfriend jerking every time he pressed the pad of his finger against his prostate. Heinwald’s tail whipped to and fro, causing him to have to dodge it a few times, as he added a second finger, and then a third. Finally, he grew fed up and grabbed it with his other hand on the backswing, giving it a little squeeze.

“Control yourself, baby,” he admonished. The tip of Heinwald’s tail suddenly swung at his face and he ducked, scowling. “Hey! You could’ve taken my eye out with that thing!”

Heinwald replied dismissively, “You have better reflexes than tha—” Curran spanked him. “--aat!” 

“You were saying?” Curran asked smugly. He gaze his tail another squeeze, rubbing his thumb along the underside, and then pulled it up and out of the way so he could line up his dick with Heinwald’s entrance.

“I…” He had to admit, he did admire his boyfriend’s stubbornness sometimes. But sometimes, he just wanted him to shut the hell up. So, without waiting for Heinwald’s reply, he sank his dick into his hole, drawing out a belabored, “Ohhh…”

Heinwald’s tail was limp in his grasp, only twitching occasionally. Curran gave it a gentle tug, then pulled out and thrust back in.

Goddess above, he felt almost bad for corrupting Heinwald so thoroughly. His lover used to be a very unusual succubus, more obsessed with truth than sex. He was, at the time Curran met him, mostly subsiding off of human food and ignoring his hunger pangs by throwing himself into his work.

But after they became lovers...his poor boyfriend was  _ insatiable. _ Curran’s lust for him was too damn tasty.

Heinwald looked so damn good underneath him. On his hands and knees, with his tail pulled aside and writhing in Curran’s grip. With every thrust, he let out a beautiful cry that went straight to Curran’s dick.

It was almost embarrassing, how sexy he found Heinwald. Sure, he was a sex demon--literally--but he went through life deliberately trying to make himself look frumpy, with his oversized everything and his offputting personality. But strip all of that away, get him mewling on Curran’s bed, and Goddess be damned, Curran’s never lasted more than ten minutes after he’s stuck his dick into him.

“Rrr...Fuck!” He swore as he spilled inside of Heinwald. Heinwald moaned loudly, eagerly accepting Curran’s offering.

As his dick went limp inside of Heinwald, Curran reached around with the hand not holding onto the tail and wrapped it around Heinwald’s cock. “Come on...come for me, beautiful,” he gasped, and Heinwald obeyed, moaning as he spilled over Curran’s hand.

They remained in that position for a moment. Then Curran pulled out, sitting back on his sore legs, letting his hand run up Heinwald’s tail, but not letting it go. Stroking the side of it again, he asked, “Feel less hangry, honey?”

“I don’t get ‘hangry’,” Heinwald grumbled as he flipped over. He blinked balefully up at Curran. “Give me my tail back.”

Curran grinned at him, then pulled said tail closer so he could press a kiss to the pointed tip. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald's pet names for Curran are "dear/my dear/dearest" and "love/my love."


	25. Drunk Sex

Euden smiled, feeling pleasantly warm and fuzzy and maybe a little bit sleepy. It was his birthday, and in celebration of the fact that he was now old enough to drink, it seemed as though the whole halidom--or at least, those who were old enough--had shown up and crammed themselves into this little bar.

People kept buying him drinks, more of a congratulatory measure than an actual attempt to encourage him to overdrink. He had a whole spread of different types of alcohol on the table in front of him, and they kept appearing in the hands of citizens and disappearing in the hands of his friends. At first he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for people to be drinking from open containers, but then he had noticed a few habitually-sober friends, including Berserker, Vixel, and Hildegarde, carefully patrolling the bar, keeping an eye out for assassination attempts, and he relaxed a little.

Next to him, Ranzal had twisted around so he could talk to Malka, who was leaning over the back of his chair. The warmth radiating from his side was making Euden sleepier. 

But he started with Ranzal suddenly barked out a laugh. 

“What? What happened?” asked Elisanne, who was sitting on Euden’s right side. 

Ranzal turned back around to face the two of them with a broad grin. “Don’t turn around, you two, unless you want to see something disgusting.”

Euden hesitated, but he couldn’t resist his curiosity. He turned and peered past Malka, who had his eyes closed in a long-suffering expression. 

Elisanne groaned. “What on earth are those two doing?”

Near the back of the bar, Curran was sitting on a barstool. Heinwald was on his lap, and even from here the red glow on his cheeks was obvious, as was the fact that the two of them had eyes for no one in the bar but each other. But Curran was holding Heinwald’s hand in his, palm up, and he appeared to be licking his palm and wrist.

“Someone jostled Heinwald, and his drink spilled, and then Curran started doing that,” Ranzal cackled. “I’d like to see Curran try to deny THIS tomorrow morning.”

Euden looked away, to give the two of them their privacy. Elisanne remained looking in their direction for another split second, but then she scowled and turned back around. 

A few minutes later, they spotted the two investigators stumbling out the door, holding onto each other.

***

The walk back to the castle and their room was longer than it normally took, partially because Heinwald had turned left instead of right and it took them a good ten minutes before either of them realized they were automatically making their way back home-home, a good couple of hours away, instead of to the castle, no more than ten.

Eventually, they managed to stumble into their room without any further incident or casualty. Heinwald giggled as he set the bottle of whatever the fuck he had bought from the bar--Curran really couldn’t remember, all he knew was that it wasn’t dark-colored and it was out of his price range--on the bedside table. Curran laughed too, because a giggly Heinwald was so cute, and he kissed him, interrupting his attempt to take off his clothes.

“St-stop kissing me! I need to remove my clothes!” Heinwald whined, but he kissed Curran back.

Curran had to think about it for a little bit. On one hand, he  _ loved _ Heinwald  _ so much _ and he wanted to just keep kissing him. On the other hand...Goddess above was he ever horny. Too much alcohol and too much Heinwald really got him going. Eventually, he reluctantly pulled back.

They quickly divested themselves and each other of their clothing. Since Curran had much fewer layers than Heinwald did, he sat down on the bed and struggled with the bottle a little bit, managing to pop it open just before Heinwald literally tripped out of his pants, lying face down on the bed.

Heinwald lay there a little bit, ass naked, with his head turned and giggling at his situation. Curran eyed the curve of his bare back, the contrast between purple and pale skin, the divot in the center where his spine lay.

Then he leaned over and poured a generous portion of the drink onto Heinwald’s back.

Heinwald jerked in surprise, but only enough to make the liquid wobble. But he stopped moving when Curran leaned down and licked his tongue up his back, tasting alcohol and Heinwald’s skin at once. He lavished attention over the stich marks on his back, running his tongue along the small bumps, and slurped up the last of the alcohol off of his back before sitting up.

Heinwald rolled over. His eyes were full of heat as he sat up and reached for the bottle. Curran passed it to him, but not without taxing a kiss.

Heinwald eyed his body critically for a long moment, hesitating over where he wanted to take his first sip. His eyes lingered on Curran’s dick, already half-hard, before he splashed some liquor onto his pecs. As it dripped down his chest, he dove in immediately, tracking the drip down the curve of his muscles, managing to catch up to the last of the droplets just below Curran’s nipple.

Curran’s next choice was to lift Heinwald’s loose hair--he had lost or maybe removed his hair tie, how did he not notice?--away from his shoulder. Heinwald tilted his head invitingly as he doused the seam between his shoulder and his throat. He leaned in and licked once, twice, sweetly, but on the third time he bit down. Heinwald moaned out loud at the spark of pain, his masochism rearing its pretty head.

Afterwards Heinwald lapped alcohol off of Curran’s abs as he flexed, running his tongue along the crevices of his muscles, and Curran had drank liquor off of the same spot on Heinwald, pushing him down onto the bed so he could drink out of his belly button.

The trend was obviously spiraling downward. For his next sip, Heinwald “accidentally” spilled the bottle onto Curran’s lap. And, of course, he had to take responsibility for his own accidents.

When he wrapped his lips around Curran’s cock and sucked, Curran groaned and came.

Heinwald sat up, swallowing the mouthful of come and wiping the excess away with the back of his hand so he could complain, “Nooo, I wanted more…”

Curran kissed him in apology. “Sorry, baby, you’re just toooo sexy,” he slurred, and sloppily kissed him again.

“Make yourself useful, annd get me off,” Heinald mumbled.

“I wanna eat your ass.”

“No.” Curran pouted at his abject refusal. “You’re terrible at that when you’re drunk.”

“But I  _ wanna. _ ”

“Do it when we’re sober.” As if punctuating his point, Heinwald took a pull directly from the bottle. Curran goggled at him a little bit, then sighed grumpily and pushed Heinwald over onto the bed. 

He licked the bottom of Heinwald’s cock, drawing a moan from his lips. Then he dipped his head down and engulfed the cock in his mouth. Heinwald’s hips jerked up automatically, but Curran took it in stride. He sucked on his dick almost carelessly, unable to commit to anything more elaborate than pressing his tongue against the slit in his inebriated state. Heinwald tasted like alcohol and precome, and  _ Goddess _ was Curran wishing he’d managed to last longer.

He drew himself off, lavishing attention on the head. Even when he was drunker than a skunker, he knew what Heinwald liked. He knew how to suck on the head of his cock, how to grip the shaft, how to scrape his canines gently against the skin. He knew that pressing a dry finger against Heinwald’s entrance, not quite pushing in but threatening to do so, was the trigger that always made Heinwald gasp and come into his mouth.

He swallowed, humming happily just to see Heinwald’s knee jump and hear him draw in ragged breaths. Then he sat up and leaned over Heinwald’s body so he could kiss him. The taste of himself and Heinwald and alcohol mingled in their mouths as they made out lazily. Heinwald’s arms came down from where he was gripping the headboard (and when had that happened?) to wrap around Curran’s shoulders, holding him close.

Goddess, he was sleepy now. He rested his head on the pillow next to Heinwald’s. Heinwald’s eyes were drifting closed, and he smiled, the warm fuzziness from the alcohol amplified by the sweet sight of Heinwald sighing and snuggling deeper into the pillows to fall asleep.

They were going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Curran feels every emotion a bit too keenly--when he's sad, he's sobbing; when he's angry, he breaks tables; when he's horny...well, Heinwald better brace himself ;)


End file.
